


Entropy

by order_n_chaos



Series: Nothing Can Tear Us Apart - DAY6 Mafia AU [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternative Universe - Mafia, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Lovers, Gambling, Light Choking, Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Park Jaehyung | Jae-centric, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Violence, brothel owner dowoon, death in general because mobsters, druglord Jae, hitman Wonpil, hustler Younghyun, jae is done with everyone, mob boss Sungjin, references to many day6 songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 236,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/order_n_chaos/pseuds/order_n_chaos
Summary: Being the right hand of a mob-boss certainly has its merits; luxury, power and respect. The only problem though: Jae doesn’t belong to this world of twisted morality and dead. Not even for the person who is the reason for his dilemma. If only Jae didn't fall in love with Kang Younghyun back in college, maybe then he wouldn’t be losing his mind to the shadow drowning him in madness ten years later.Jae needs to get out of Seoul and that fast. (And maybe finally get rid of Younghyun all the same.)Or: the mafia AU wherein Jae comes home to a dead body and somehow blames Younghyun for everything that follows (because hating him is so much easier than admitting that Jae still loves him, even after so many years have passed).
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae, Kim Wonpil & Park Jaehyung | Jae, Side Dopil - Relationship
Series: Nothing Can Tear Us Apart - DAY6 Mafia AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898395
Comments: 113
Kudos: 179





	1. Intro: I don't want to want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first work for a long long time. I really cherish this work since I'm writing it for half a year now. The work overall is finished - what is left is to edit and rewrite scenes. But don't worry that it will never be finished since it's already written! Also, don't get confused by the usage of Brian and Younghyun as his name. It's totally intended.  
> And this got totally inspired by the last Halloween shooting because they looked so good...
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and is just that - fiction. English isn't my first language and I don't have beta-reader. I tried my best, so forgive me any mistakes. I am correcting things from time to time and am really happy if you point out my mistakes. Or are interested in becoming my beta...
> 
> WARNING: This is a gang/mafia AU. People are bleeding, people are dying, there are drugs, prostitution and some other heavy topics. So be warned! I wrote in smut but honestly, it's 85% plot und the rest smut, if I remember correctly.
> 
> STREAM ZOMBIE FIRST AND READ SECOND!

When Jae first started his current job, he always thought that it’s all about glamour, good parties, drinks and pulling the strings behind the scenes. Now he knows better. Now Jae knows that his job _is_ all about glamorous parties, drinks and pulling the strings behind the scenes. What he forgets to think about most times: the danger of guns being pulled at him.

It was years ago when he’d met the big boss in the city of angels, the boss’s hand held out for Jae to enter a world full of darkness, deceit and blood. Jae hadn’t blinked as he took the hand, immediately swept off his feet to South Korea, Seoul to be precise. Jae’s Korean skills weren’t really honed at that point, but for what it’s worth it made him mysterious and helped him to fend off people as Jae likes his personal space.

And how he loves the position he is in now. Take this situation for example:

The party, thrown by one of Seoul’s high-society member, is as glamorous as it can get with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, windows satisfying the voyeuristic urges to oversee the city. Champagne, wine, cognac, and whiskey being poured into crystal glasses that are clinking when pushed against each other and shine in the light. Lo-fi music chimes in a pleasant volume through the many in-built speakers, and the lights are dimmed down to add something sensual to the atmosphere.

Jae loves that kind of parties. They have the same feeling as the rooftop ones but not quite so, especially if he can look down to the city he likes to meddle with.

No, Jae isn’t on the throne of Seoul and he will never be. He is satisfied with things as they are now, him being one of Seoul’s biggest player’s right hand. It's enough for Jae to know that his boss is nothing without Jae. His boss depends on him as Jae has the rare gift of being good at manipulating people (which only includes talking and talking until the other has no other choice than agree with everything Jae says). Talking and arguing, there’s a reason why he had once studied poli-sci at the South Californian University.

Right now, Jae stands atop of a stairway leading up to private rooms. Whispers of busy businessman, moans of thirsty trophy-wives, muffled punches are echoing through the hallway. The flute in his hand is half-empty and hopefully it stays like that as Jae never drinks himself into oblivion when he is out on a job.

Tonight his target is an easy one: search for a certain nightclub owner who got into too much trouble the last few weeks. Jae followed the events of his downfall in the press and got even more information through his own informants. Apparently, the nightclub has a prostitution ring under its roof, dancers that aren’t dancing of their own will and were probably bought for a cheap price. The problem though? One of them had escaped and then talked to the press and police.

At first, Jae’s boss was worried. The dancers came from their own selection of people for trade, nice Taiwanese girls and boys freshly imported and trained in their own house. Hence, when the nightclub’s owner got arrested and persecuted, Jae’s boss was forced to do something - alas he told Jae to do what needed to be done.

Their assassin took care of the jailbreaker, Jae used cash to persuade the police that the nightclub owner was indeed a good man (well, as much as a mobster’s words can count) and got him free. Why? Because his boss is very much interested in the nightclub and this is his chance to get it.

Easy game tonight. Right?

Jae fiddles with his collar, opens the first few buttons of his nice dress shirt and walks down the stairs, full well knowing that people are looking at his long legs gliding along the floor. It took him more than an hour to get ready: his red hair gelled off his forehead, golden hoops adorning his ears, chains around his neck dangling with a gleam in the light. The burgundy suit compliments his hair, the blue dress shirt makes a nice contrast. He even put on make-up to please the eye with an even more dashing view. God bless Kim Wonpil and his long-forgotten make-up bag in Jae’s bathroom.

Walking down the stairwell, Jae uses his time to sweep his gaze through the crowds, checking out other visitors and potential threats. So far so good, especially when he spots the nightclub owner in front of the bar obviously trying to chat up a woman in a tight and long red dress, who only rolls her eyes at the other’s pathetic advances.

Perfect. This is Jae’s chance to dive into their conversation.

Red dress is rolling her eyes again and is about to turn down the nightclub owner’s sweet talk when Jae suddenly slides up to the bar with his arm leaning against the countertop and a bright smile on his face.

This is the part that Jae loves the most about his job, people reacting to his appearance. Maybe Jae being the awkward bean during high school is the reason why he now revels in people’s unwavering attention. Especially when it goes like this:

First, the surprise that someone is suddenly standing in front of them, eyes gleaming in a flirty look that Jae usually goes for. Second comes the realization in the other’s mind when they eventually recognize who exactly is in front of them. Last, and that’s the best part for Jae, fear distorting their faces.

There is an unspoken rule in Seoul that says, if you screw up and Jae approaches you like it's Christmas Eve, then run as fast as you can. While Jae prefers luring his targets in with his charm, their mob’s assassin likes to hunt down his prey. It never ends well if _he_ is out for you.

“Park Jaehyung!” Nightclub owner bellows with open arms, an uncertain smile on his lips and apprehension in his eyes. “What brings you here tonight?”

Jae ignores the invitation for a welcoming hug and stays as he his, leaning sideways on the bar to be on eye-height with the other.

“Well, it’s a funny story,” Jae begins, chuckling and scratching his nose. “You know how it goes; someone tells someone else about a party in a super house with a super view and then they say something about champagne and you know how much I love this shit!” Jae giggles and sees the other laughing along, _perfect_. “And then I thought ‘Hey, let’s check who’s on the guest list’. When I saw that good old Kim Namjoon planned to attend, well, how could I say no, right?” The nightclub owner agrees easily. “Unfortunately, Kim’s not coming tonight, and I was _so_ sad about it, but then—”

Jae takes a full flute from the bar and sips a little bit from it, savors the taste on his tongue and wow, does it taste like shit. It works as planned, though, as nightclub owner watches him with a sultry smile, obviously checking out the movement of his larynx when he gulps. So, Jae leans over so much that he grazes the man’s cheek with his nose where he smells the alcohol on the other’s breath. Oh, it's nearly too easy for him.

“But then I saw you here and the night was saved,” he breathes lavishly against the other’s lips. When Jae leans back while straightening the man’s lapel, he knows that he has him right under his thumb. That gaze, the darkness in there, that’s what Jae wants to see.

“Then I’m glad that you’ve found me.” The other smirks at Jae, a tad of caution still gleaming in his eyes, nothing that Jae is too worried about.

“Yeah, me too.”

He takes another gulp of his drink, only this time he chugs down the whole flute (why does it have to be carbonated?) Jae makes sure to keep the other’s gaze on him by closing his eyes and throwing his head in his neck to stretch it enticingly. He puts down the glass and licks his lips, saving the remnants of the champagne's bitter taste.

“Well, how about we check out one of those rooms for a more…” Jae flutters with his eyelashes, leaning forward slightly. “… _private_ conversation?”

Unexpectedly (but still expected), nightclub owner leans away and eyes Jae cautiously. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Ah, nothing to worry about. We just got in fresh goods this morning and I thought you might be interested. Dowoon told me it’s a pretty good batch from Taiwan this time.”

Nightclub owner hums before smirking again, and Jae suddenly gets the urge to punch it off his face. Maybe he spends too much time with mobsters, but well, not that it can be helped, though.

“It’s always about business with you, Park Jaehyung.”

Jae¬ chuckles for good measure. “A good business deal makes the pleasure all the merrier.”

“So, those lips are not only good for talking, right?”

Jae purses them and winks, then turns around to walk sultrily towards the stairwell, grinning when he hears the nightclub owner following him hurriedly. Jae tries to move his hips lavishly, and maybe he isn’t wearing the best pants to let the other check out his non-existent ass, but at least he tries.

Walking down the hallway, Jae counts the doors and takes the fourth on the right after listening in, no person around. He enters a library with books stacked up to the ceiling and a dark wooden table at the end of the room. In the middle of the room is a small lounge area with two armchairs where Jae settles into the one that faces the balcony, yet the door still in his periphery. Nightclub owner takes the one opposite of him, sitting with his legs apart while Jae crosses his to rest his hands intertwined on them.

Glances are thrown and caught, smiles and grins mirrored on their faces.

“Let’s talk about business, Jaehyung-ssi,” nightclub owner starts as he takes out a cigarette and puts it into his mouth.

“Jae’s enough. I really don’t insist on using honorifics. Plus, with the things we’re about to do, I don’t think they’re needed at all.” Jae beams and nightclub owner smirks, both because of different reasons. You see, Jae has planned the whole evening down to a t and nothing of what the other thinks will happen is in this plan at all.

“Then call me Seunghyun.” Seunghyun puffs out the smoke into the air. The fume glides across his head towards the open balcony door. “Tell me more about your new batch. Taiwanese girls and boys, huh?”

“Teenagers, they arrived just a weeks ago. Dowoon really likes them because they’re more cooperative than the Taiwanese ones.” Jae leans back into his chair, following the movement of the curtains waving in the wind, dancing and hiding things behind them.

“Sounds good,” Seunghyun gruffly replies.

“I sense a but in there.” Jae quirks one of his eyebrows at Seunghyun’s grin. He really hates that smug and grimy expression. It’s the same that the football guys from high school wore, it’s the same as that of the basketball team members in college. Jocks are all the same and Jae really hates their guts.

“My club only has Thais. My clients like them best and I don’t know if they’ll be happy if there were suddenly Taiwanese whores. Supply and demand, you see?”

Jae only shrugs with a smug grin of his own. “Sure, that’s why Sungjin said ‘ _screw them all, we’re opening the club for a more open clientele’._ Mixing Thai and Taiwanese should be good for profit since there would be more supply for an unanswered demand.”

Seunghyun looks confused with his furrowed eyebrows, which makes Jae laugh at the funny expression. He shuffles in his seat and tries to contain the laughter with a hand in front of his mouth.

“Sorry, my bad, I try to rephrase it.” Jae speaks muffled behind his hand, takes it away as soon as he can be serious again. “We’re taking the sun club, a.k.a. your club—” At that Jae points at the dumbfounded Seunghyun. “—and merge them with the moon club from down the street, which is ours. Then we own the whole street in our newly planned entertainment block, filled with lots of different nationalities. Like Itaewon, I guess.”

Seunghyun barks a laughter and stops right away when he sees Jae’s cocked eyebrow and smirk. “You’re serious? This is _my_ club we’re talking about!”

Jae shrugs. “It’s not like I bailed you out of prison last week.”

“Is this what it’s about? I already paid you the money, interest included, and disposed of possible troublemaker. We’re even!” The cigarette in Seunghyun’s finger burns dangerously near his fingers, yet Seunghyun doesn’t notice.

Jae shakes his head, his mouth lightly open in wonder. “You really think we’re even?” Seunghyun harrumphs which makes Jae laugh delightedly. “Oh my god, are you really that naïve for a former mobster?”

When Seunghyun doesn’t answer and only grumbles, Jae guffaws and claps his hands in obvious amusement, even more so when Seunghyun’s head turns a deep red.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Wrong thing to say as Jae suddenly has his gun aimed at Seunghyun’s chest, his face blank and devoid of any amusement. Seunghyun’s cigarette falls from his fingers right on the carpet. His skin reddens with burn marks.

“ _You_ shut the fuck up, okay? Because it’s not me who fucked up the one thing I wasn’t supposed to and honestly, if I’ve been in your shoes, I would have been on my knees to plead for my life long ago.” Jae stands up and steps toward the armchair, presses the muffler against Seunghyun’s forehead. “That moment when the whore escaped right under your nose? That was when you lost your life to us. You’re at our will now and what you’re going to do is—” Jae pulls a letter from his jacket, handing it to Seunghyun who takes it with shaking hands. “—to sign that paper without a protest and pray for your best.”

Jae steps back to let the other read the paper with the weapon still aimed at him. He takes in the shaking of Seunghyun’s hands, the line of tension in his shoulders. The wind picks up, the papers flatter in the breeze, and Jae can smell a sweet scent, fruity yet so musky, covered under the heavy stench of cigarette smoke.

That should have been his first clue.

He plays with the weapon in his hand, touches the muffler to make some noise for the other to get more nervous. Sweat on Seunghyun’s temple drips down to his pants. Jae can read the fear in them, in the strained lines beneath his eyes and the tremble of his hands. He has already seen bodies reacting like this, people cowering in front of him and eating right out of his palm in hopes to save their lives, their anxiety spiking when Wonpil makes his entrance or Sungjin waving his hand in a simple command.

Jae has seen bodies reacting like this in a very different context, too, people contorting on the ground with their pupils blown wide and their bodies shaking, sweat dripping down their backs and their shirts sticking to the skin. He doesn’t have to ask what is wrong as he already knows that this is how they make them pliant and addicted. This is how drugs work, something Jae had a long time to get used to.

Seunghyun, for someone who is very aware of his precarious situation, really takes his time to read the contract. Jae could have summarized it for him in one sentence and already did so, but maybe this is just Seunghyun’s way of dealing with the impending doom on his life.

Jae decides to be nice and plays pretend as long as the man sets his signature on the line. Hopefully he doesn’t stumble over the small-printed clause that is right beneath it. People tend to make Jae’s life harder if they notice it. Tonight, Jae really hopes to have a clean and nice evening (and who knows, maybe Kim Namjoon will make a surprise appearance and give Jae his number, because holy shit, that would make so many things easier for Jae).

Seunghyun is grunting while reading, probably because hard reality is knocking on his doors. Speaking of doors, Jae is still staring at the open balcony doors, taking in the small glint of the Seoul city line, wondering how warm the weather is now at the end of May. When Seunghyun starts laughing though, Jae blinks a few times and watches the nightclub owner descending into madness as he shakes his head like a bobblehead.

“Let me resume a bit, okay?” Jae nods for Seunghyun to continue. “You act all nice and pretty for me, just so I come with you to this room that is far away from the party downstairs. Then you give me this contract that robs me not only of my club but also of my money—” Jae smiles innocently to which Seunghyun scoffs. “—and I have to sign it with the not so suspicious line down there where it states that I lose everything to you if I die?”

“Bingo!” Jae clicks his tongue, throwing finger pistols at him, and winks. Seunghyun just stares at him with disbelief written on his face.

It’s like watching a china plate falling down in slow motion; even better, like watching a middle-aged lady watching her china plate falling down in slow motion. You see the surprise and anger seeping in with a small mix of defeat. For Seunghyun, it’s the bitter taste of loss and the consequences of blowing things with mobsters. For Jae, it’s the sweet taste of victory, like wet grass and wooden trees, the strong smell of expensive cigarettes, a twenty-one in blackjack and— where the fuck do these comparisons suddenly come from?

Seunghyun suddenly barks a laughter of madness (Jae later pinpoints this moment as the one where everything goes to hell). The laughter is disgusting in a way that it makes a shiver run down his spine. His stomach squeezes, and his chest constricts as the gnawing feeling of something horribly wrong etches into his mind. It is giving him the creeps how Seunghyun’s face forms a grimace, madness and defeat forming a monster that was hiding beneath glamour and smoke all along.

Jae grabs his weapon tighter, his eyes glancing between the balcony door and Seunghyun back and forth. He sets his lips in a frown. “Just sign it.”

Seunghyun only nods and hums, his lips forming a pout as if he is considering something. “Why should I?” His gaze is challenging as his arms cross over his chest. “You’re going to kill me either way if I sign it or not. At least I can make your life harder by not doing so.”

Damn, Seunghyun is a fighter. He has too much class to fall down to his knees to plead for his life.

“True that.” Jae nods and grips his weapon tighter when the madness doesn’t vanish from Seunghyun’s seemingly calm eyes. It feels like the calm before the storm. “But you know—” Good thing that Jae is better, better than anyone else who tries to outwit him. That is why Sungjin chose him as his right hand, that is why Jae feels like he is on top of Seoul, the king of people. Jae likes to talk, but he really loves to break them with his mind. “—Your girlfriend would fit quite nicely into our club, wouldn’t she?”

Every man has his weakness. There is no man in the world who doesn’t have someone in his heart because that’s only humane. Even if people doubt a mobster’s heart and intention, even the coldest human being has a tiny shred of humanity in them. You just have to find it. And for Seunghyun it's the innocent girlfriend that doesn’t exist on papers.

“A sweet and young Korean girl. She would be the specialty of the house, our cash cow.” He sees Seunghyun gripping the armrest hard, his face white like he’s seen a ghost. He watches the gulp Seunghyun takes, watches the darkness flashing in his eyes. Jae slides over the contract, smirking in triumph. “Sign it and the girlfriend stays where she is.”

Silence is Jae’s answer.

Jae leans back and still towers over the defeated guy. Seunghyun leans forward slowly, the tremble of his body stopping as if he made peace with his fate.

“If I sign this, you’ll leave her alone?” he asks in a whisper. Jae nods in affirmation. “I mean it, if I sign this, no matter what happens then, you’ll leave her alone, right?”

That’s suspicious, but Jae isn’t too worried about it. He only hums happily when Seunghyun finally takes the pen and sets his name on the line slowly and carefully.

Jae glances back to the balcony door, finds it as empty as before – which should have been clue number two – and then turns back to the nightclub owner who stands up with a huff, the contract between his damp fingers. Ew, gross.

“One question, though,” Jae says and eyes the empty balcony again. “If you love your girlfriend that much, why did you come up with me in hopes of getting laid?”

Seunghyun watches him with dark eyes, fixates his stare on Jae’s hand, his gun to be precise. Jae draws his arm back to keep Seunghyun and the balcony in sight at the same time. The prickling on his neck doesn’t bode well.

“Open relationship,” Seunghyun grumbles while stepping forward, paper flapping with the motion. “We fuck who we want, but we love only each other.”

Jae steps back and tries to regulate his breathing as not to feel as panicked as he is now. He has been in more difficult situations before, but something about Seunghyun doesn’t feel right. Most probably it’s the calm approach of the other. People aren’t calm when they’re about to die through the hands of a mobster.

But Seunghyun isn’t normal, Jae remembers, Seunghyun is one of them. _One of the bad guys._

“Wow, respect man,” Jae says slowly, glad that his voice is stable enough and not shaking. “That isn't something I could do.” He throws a look over Seunghyun’s nearing shoulder. The balcony is still empty. “Because I really value _the people I sleep with_!”

This is Jae’s way of _giving someone a fucking cue._ He really needs the help of his go-to assassin in this very precarious situation, starting with his back suddenly being pressed against a stack of books and ending with the lack of bullets in his pistol because Jae _doesn’t shoot_ people. What Seunghyun doesn’t know, though—

“Stop right there!” Jae yells and draws his gun against Seunghyun’s face, who only grimaces and then throws himself at Jae.

Jae, thankful for the small self-defense lessons Sungjin forced him to take, punches Seunghyun right into the stomach in hopes of hitting his solar plexus, although the other grabs his arm right after and twists it to get the weapon.

Right now, Jae is very happy about the fact that his gun isn’t loaded because he suddenly finds himself with the muzzle pressed against his head.

“If I’m going to die today, I at least want to take you with me.” Jae closes his eyes as Seunghyun presses the trigger.

Nothing happens.

Jae wants to use the moment of confusion to push Seunghyun away, but that moment is gone in a flash because suddenly, Jae has his arms full of a dead body, Seunghyun’s head painted in red thanks to the hole on his forehead. Jae’s own face probably looks like he committed the murder by his own hands.

“What the fuck?!” Jae pushes the lifeless body away from him and pulls at his shirt to assess the damage. Everything is stained with blood, which is pretty hard to wash out. “What. The. Fuck?!” he repeats, the disgust stronger in his voice than before, now added with the crashing realization that he himself could have been dead as the bullet only missed him by a few inches.

The deep and rich laughter that fills the room is the third clue of what the hell is going on and really, that’s the last clue Jae needs to piece the puzzle together.

Instead of his reliable assassin with whom he had planned through the evening, someone entirely else is standing there, beaming like the brightest star on the night sky.

And wow, how much Jae doesn’t want to deal with him right now.

“What the hell are _you_ doing here?!”

The newcomer has the nerve to smile innocently at him. His cheeks are pushing up those fox-like eyes so they smile like his lips, his pupils glinting in the dim light of the library.

Really, Jae should have known it was him all along with the smell of musky wood and expensive cigarettes wafting in from the balcony where he was hiding the whole time.

“Hello to you, too.” His deep voice is grating on Jae’s nerves, just like that never vanishing smile on his face. He really wants to punch him in the face, Jesus Christ!

“Where is Wonpil?” Jae walks over the body towards the bane of his existence before he remembers the papers, so he turns around and bends down to retrieve them.

“Something came up and Wonpil had to leave,” the other mumbles distractedly, and when Jae looks over his shoulder at him, he knows why.

“Dude, stop staring at my ass!”

“I can’t help it if you bend down like that.” The other shrugs and continues his peeping.

Jae can’t help the reddening of his cheeks and despises the way that bastard chuckles, obviously reveling in the way how he still affects Jae after years of years dancing around each other.

Jae scoffs and tries to come up with some insult. “It doesn’t explain why you’re here, _Brian_.”

Ha! Now he made Brian furrowing his brows. Take that!

(Maybe Jae is a little bit petty. Like a lot petty.)

“You know that no one’s ever calling me by that name,” Brian retorts amusedly. “Is it that hard to call me Younghyun?”

“Yes,” Jae retorts out of spite. It is hard not to feel anything while saying it. “Why are you here, Brian?”

“Now you’re plain rude.” Jae only stares at Brian, and Brian eventually sighs and relents. “When Wonpil left, Sungjin called me and explained the situation. He was worried about you being on your own since you refuse to kill anyone. What’s even up with that? You’ve been a mobster for years now and still haven’t killed anyone? Maybe you’re in the wrong business?”

“Maybe you’re in the wrong business,” Jae bites back with his A+ comeback (not really, no). “Since it’s mine and not yours.”

Brian scoffs and that’s even more annoying than the one from Seunghyun. Jae doesn’t know if he wishes to be in Seunghyun’s place or for Brian to be dead on the floor instead. Both options are tempting.

“At least learn some self-defense kills. How could you even survive for so long?”

He did because Wonpil has always been there, but Brian doesn’t need to know about that.

“You did your job, so now… leave.”

When Brian purses his lips and arches one eyebrow, Jae tries to remind himself how much he hates him. Especially when he inclines his head and nods towards the corpse.

“What about him?”

Ah, they should get rid of the body. Normally Wonpil takes care of that and Jae never asks for details because he’s not too hot on the topic. Blood is disgusting, dead bodies are creepy and killing people is simply not his area. So, Jae shrugs when he turns towards the body, scratching his neck. “I have no idea how that works.”

He doesn’t have to look at Brian to know that he is rolling his eyes right now. “You’re such a chicken for a mobster. It’s literally in the job description that you have to deal with killing people and their bodies.”

“Why don’t you dispose of him when you know better?” Jae counters Brian’s arched eyebrow with one of his own. When Brian doesn’t say anything, Jae sneers at him. “Thought so.”

Brian’s sigh is heavy as he fumbles with his weapon to put it back in its holster. The smile is finally gone as he studies Jae’s face very intensely. If there is a prickling feeling running down his spine, he swiftly ignores it and just stares back at Brian with (hopefully) the same intensity in his eyes.

“I need your help with that,” Brian offhandedly says and motions at the body as he walks out on the balcony to carry in a not so small bag. The sound of zippers opening fills the silence as Jae lets the thought sink in. Sweat breaks out on his neck and palms when he realizes what Brian just said.

“What do you mean I have to help you?”

Brian looks up to his face, grinning at Jae’s wide eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. The grin develops into a full-body laughter, a sound very high and unattractive that still has Jae’s heart jumping way too hard.

“Oh my god, you should see your face right now!” Brian jumps onto his feet and searches through his pockets with one hand, the other holding a fresh shirt in his other; his laughter is still spilling out of his throat. “I should take a picture and show it to Wonpil. He’s going to laugh his ass off.”

The blush on his cheeks comes uninvited and Jae really, really wants to punch him in the face. His hands are already curled into fists and ready to strike with the hot flash of embarrassment running down his neck. He hates the way Brian makes him feel. He really hates what he does to him; the endless shift between hot and cold, embarrassment and hurt mixed with confusing signals due to the hurtful jabs at his person and obvious admission of attraction. What he hates the most, though, is how he reacts to Brian; how he feels desired when Brian checks out his rearview and how he feels ridiculed at the simplest jokes he makes on his cost.

He simply just hates Brian, full stop.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Jae barks at his nemesis who, in turn, parrots Jae with a high voice.

Jae feels like pulling his hair out.

“Don’t sweat too much about it, the clean-up guys are already on their way to take care of that,” Brian says on a more serious note. “That’s why we have them in the first place.”

“Oh.”

So, sue Jae for not knowing things like that. Sure, he has been in the business for a few years now and technically he should know about it… He really hates to repeat himself. And he really hates how warm his ears are right now.

Brian chuckles and it’s only then that Jae notices how close the other is, even stepping nearer to him, so Jae steps back with a strangled noise coming out of his throat.

What the hell is Brian doing, what the hell is he thinking when he’s only half an arm away and grabbing Jae’s collar, pulling him in even further.

“Brian, what the—”

“Stay still.”

Jae gulps when Brian pushes the first button through the hole and opens Jae’s shirt slowly with steady hands.

“There’s blood everywhere,” Brian whispers with his voice deep and rich, making shivers run down Jae’s spine. “You should change your shirt.”

That’s how it always is when Brian is near him. Jae stares at the younger and his dark eyes, Brian’s fingers move over the buttons, grazing his skin in accident, and Jae, being the weakling that he is, freezes in his place as he enjoys the attention too much.

Brian’s fingers are warm and long, his face blank and yet full of lust and desire. Jae wishes he could hate it with every fiber of his body, yet hopes things will escalate to finally break the tension between them.

But, as he is still Jae, chicken little as he was called so lovingly during high school, he only snatches Brian’s wrists and squeezes them hard, staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing, Kang?”

Brian smirks in a challenge, leans forward into Jae’s space to grace his cheek with his own. His breath ghosts against Jae’s ear and wow, this feeling goes straight to his lower region. He can feel his toes curling into themselves, the heat burning in his abdomen, his breath getting caught in his lungs.

“I was curious if your body still looks like on the pictures Wonpil denies to have on his phone.”

Startled, Jae leans back and stutters, “What pictures?!”

Brian, being the piece of shit he is, only smiles mischievously and continues with the fiddling of Jae’s shirt until he eventually finishes. His hands then touch his bare skin, roaming over his soft belly up to his chest like a feather tickling his skin. His eyes get darker the higher his fingers get, and Jae feels the desire thrumming through his veins. A gasp leaves his mouth when Brian closes the last step between them to push the shirt from Jae’s frame.

Jae feels like in trance, his eyes half-closed and still intently watching _Younghyun’s_ face, admiring the eyes drinking in Jae’s skin, admiring the way his lips curl up before they latch onto his skin. Jae moans loudly when he sucks hard, Younghyun’s hands cradling his hips to eliminate any space between them.

“You smell so good, Jae,” Younghyun groans into his neck. His lips trail their way up to Jae’s jaw, nibbling and tasting. Jae probably never got so turned on by a simple neck nibbling before.

Jae's hands reach up to catch Younghyun’s own black shirt, grabbing hard at the collar in a debate at what to do. As it stands for now, he can’t formulate a real thought and debating them seems to be too hard of as task. Not the only hard thing here if the friction between their bodies is any indication.

And that just puts his gears into motion: How the hell did they get here? From being enemies to _Brian_ sucking hickeys into his neck, rubbing his own half hard-on into Jae’s thigh, and Jae letting all of this happen, moaning like a teenager who has his first-time experiencing this, all while a dead body is literally lying by their feet?

So, Jae finally pushes Brian away and makes a grab for the clean shirt to put on. He has a hard time ignoring the younger's bellowing laughter that sounds too amused for being rejected a second before.

“What is wrong with you?!” Jae groans in frustration.

“You ask too many questions, hyung.” It doesn’t help that Brian breaks his boundaries yet again by straightening Jae’s collar and putting his blood-stained shirt away in his bag. “What’s the harm in a little bit of fun?”

“There’s a dead body right there.”

Brian still beams at him. “So, you would sleep with me if there wasn’t a dead body?”

“Ew, no!” Jae takes a step back from Brian, then a few more as precaution, and crosses his arm to give himself some sense of defense. “I still hate you and you know that.”

Jae pretends he can’t see how Brian flinches lightly for both of their sakes and pushes down the feeling of dread that has never left since the evening begun. Brian only clicks his tongue and finally looks away from Jae to fiddle with his phone.

“The clean-up guys are here. You should go.”

Huh? That’s some mood swing.

Jae straightens his shirt and stalls his department by checking if he has everything – phone, wallet, papers – and then, with a last glance to Brian Kang, who is lighting up one of his pretentious cigarettes, leaves the place.

It's only when he is sitting in his car that Jae eventually wonders why Brian Kang had agreed to be his savior in the first place.

~~~

His apartment lies high up in the sky, just how he likes it. Jae loves the big window front and the view it gives him, Seoul laid out in front of him, right beneath his feet, a city he can play like strings.

His favorite scenery is Seoul lost in the rain, serene and calm, painted in grey with dots of yellow and white, the pitter patter of the rain blurring the colors into each other and filling the silence of a dark loft.

The best part of his days is coming home in the evening with the sun already set and Seoul lightening up like stars in the night. The rain is his only companion through the night. He loves the rhythm it produces, he loves how it sounds to the strings of his guitar.

In a different life, Jae could be a politician or journalist with his poli-sci degree. In another different life, Jae could be an idol playing in a band, turning heads and coins to feel free. In this life, though, Jae enjoys every ounce of his life as Park Sungjin’s right hand, playing the strings of other people as if they are marionettes waiting to be used.

Unlike what everyone thinks of Jae, he isn’t a people person. Yes, he likes talking much. Yes, he likes disputing with people. Yes, he likes convincing them to do as he wishes. Yet, after a tiring day, all he longs for is the rain against his window, Seoul shining like an unattainable dream in black and yellow, his guitar filling the silence of his apartment as he stares down to the city from his high place.

That’s how Jae imagines his life to be. High up in the sky, watching the stars from above, no one daring to stand above him. Here, Jae is untouchable. And yet, when Jae eventually comes home with a shirt that isn’t his, he can’t help but think;

What a lonely place this is.

~~~

After the sort-of disaster yesterday evening, Jae feels that he deserves a slow morning where he sleeps in late. Hence, he finds himself still in bed at nine in the morning, his blanket hugging him at the right places and his face hidden in his pillow. His comfy bed is the first thing he bought after getting his first paycheck, a luxury he definitely loved getting used to.

Even if his sleep-schedule is all over the place thanks to late night work and early briefing sessions, he still tries to find the time to appreciate the comfort of his bed. It’s a sacred place where everything is positive and happy. Although Jae is still worked up over that moan that left Brian’s lips yesterday, or said lips sucking a hickey on his neck that he isn’t all too happy about.

Jae groans as he turns over and presses a second pillow over his head, a weak try to get Brian out of his head.

It’s always hard to get this fox out of his head after a short run-in. He is like a ghost haunting Jae’s mind for a few long days. At first, he always denies himself the pleasure of satisfying his body’s urges with the memory of Brian’s lips on less innocent places until he eventually gives in to finally move on to the stage of forgetting him.

Brian doesn’t have this kind of power over him anymore (he still does. Even Sungjin teases him about it all the time). Jae is over this stupid phase. Has been for years now.

(Still a lie, his heart chides him.)

Wonpil always jokes about hate-sex and how good it is while Jae is helpfully trying to find a comfortable place for Wonpil's head on his lap and wow, maybe he should shove the other away next time (Jae’s too soft for that, everybody knows it).

So, the relief that surges through him when his phone rings and breaks his wet half-dream about a fox-eyed bastard is like sweet honey. Sungjin’s voice on the other line is not.

Now, Jae is filling his thermos with coffee from his super-duper automatic coffee brewer after a ten-minute getting-ready-run in his bathroom. His hoodie thankfully hides his wet hair and blank face from the cruel eyes of the world.

He stopped dressing up for Sungjin, who prefers to wear ugly dad-clothes all the time, long ago. No one except Jae and Wonpil dare to tell him the truth with no use – Wonpil’s pink sweater incident disqualifies him as a fashionista.

~~~

Jae should have known that when Sungjin disturbed his well-deserved morning rest —correction — when Brian hasn't stopped infiltrating his thoughts since last night: this day won’t get any better.

Just when Jae enters Sungjin’s office, a high-end room in one of their district’s skyscrapers, it only takes three seconds for everything to go from nah to no.

“Nice hoodie. Which second-hand store did you steal that from?”

The good thing about his thermos is that it takes a really long time for his coffee to get cold, so if he chucks it into Brian’s face now, he will hopefully get some third-degree burn. Instead, Jae throws him the deadliest stare he can muster while slurping at his coffee just to get a rise out of Brian who still smiles innocently at Jae.

Just like he does in his thoughts and dreams, and Jae is sadly reminded about the fact that Brian occupies too much of his time. Especially when it makes him blush like that. And to prevent anyone from seeing him that flustered, Jae turns his head away and hides his face beneath his hood and bangs.

"It's too early for this, Brian." Maybe it's for the better to ignore Brian as Jae makes his way toward Sungjin's office down the hall.

(And if Jae glances down to check his too big, washed out and yet stained sweater, that's only his to know.)

It says much about Jae that he gets startled by Brian following him into the room and it says everything about Brian how he sits down in Jae's favorite seat – the cushioned armchair turned to the full front window view that isn't as nice as the one in his own flat. The audacity that Brian has as he smirks at Jae triumphantly.

Jae, deciding to be the better man for once, sits down next to Dowoon, who plays with the pendulum on the coffee table, and avoids Brian's gaze as much as he can. Dowoon looks from one to another, his eyebrows rising at the tense silence in the room.

"Wow, that I see the day where Jae-hyung and Younghyun-hyung aren't bickering?" Dowoon comments in wonder, nudging Jae's arm with his elbow.

Jae only grunts in annoyance as Brian laughs annoyingly.

"I’m surprised, too! He only tries to erase my existence by giving me nasty glances," Brian jabs at him with a satisfied smirk. And just for show, Jae knows, he straightens the collar of his leather jacket with all the shining metal studs. It’s only because of the sunlight they reflect, not because Jae really loves black leather jackets as they make Brian look like sex on legs.

"If only I could…" Jae mumbles absentmindedly, his thoughts straying from the present to last evening when Brian wore a black shirt with black jeans, bland and ordinary and still so perfect.

That he also thinks about lips grazing his neck and hands touching his chest, Jae would never admit. He doesn’t need to, he realizes, as Brian keeps staring into his eyes as if he is able to read the deepest thoughts and desires of his soul.

Dowoon chuckles his deep and cute laugh that turns his eyes into crescents. Jae decides to focus on that instead of the other person in the room.

“I really look forward to the day you two won’t try to throttle each other,” Dowoon adds jokingly.

“Then I’m going to mark that day in my calendar.”

Cue; enter Park Sungjin with his head held high, the doors opening and closing behind him without a noise.

Jae is still and will always be impressed by how put together Sungjin looks. His suit is perfectly ironed, his hair growing out and styled in a nice fringe after his shaved off look months ago, and his skin has a healthy brown tan.

Sungjin would look better on a catwalk instead at the top of their small business.

What is there to tell about Park Sungjin? Jae has admired the man from the first moment on he met him back in the states.

That bright smile and warm aura he emanates, what isn’t there to like? Maybe Sungjin has a short temper, especially if you try to touch him without permission, which in one rare case resulted in a knife wound. Wonpil’s still bitter about it.

He is a tad younger than Jae but has already achieved so much more than Jae ever will. Sungjin worked his way up from the life of a commoner, got out of the streets of Busan and made himself a name in Seoul. He fought over the few districts that he now owns like a king; a fight Jae should be proud of to have participated in.

Jae _is_ proud of being the right hand of this man, a position he fought for quite hard considering his competition.

Said competition is still staring holes into his head instead of listening to Sungjin’s small talk. Jae cocks his eyebrow at Brian, who then luckily gets the cue and finally looks away from Jae.

“How was last night?”

Sungjin sits in his office chair with the deep depths of Seoul in his back and sunlight streaming in through the window, painting the skyline in beautiful hues of yellow and white.

The paper crinkles in Jae’s hand when he takes it out of his pocket. Sungjin’s eyebrows furrow at the wrinkles in the sheet. He opens the letter, eyes roaming through the content, a small smile playing around his lips.

“He made quite the scene to sign the paper. Figured that if he dies anyways, he can make the best out of it,” Jae recounts with a blank voice. That’s how he has to work, detaching himself from the deeds and sins of his jobs and looking at it through a third person’s eye that doesn’t have any business with it whatsoever.

“You used the girlfriend?”

“Yup, made him sign the contract.”

Sungjin hums and puts the paper on top of a discard pile, probably for his accountant to finalize things for him.

“He's dead now?”

Jae nods. “He was a fighter, tried to take me down with him. Good thing my gun wasn’t loaded.”

The rise of Sungjin’s eyebrows shows the doubt in his face. Jae skillfully ignores the loaded question behind it, just like he does with the judgement and worry hiding beneath the mask of indifference on Sungjin’s face.

But Brian, that idiot Brian, needs to openly express his disagreement with a loud huff. Jae, being the better man he is, yes, _is!!!,_ only closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths – one, two, three – before he turns toward his favorite seat to see Brian sitting there with a deep frown on his face.

“Do you want to share something with us, _Brian_?”

“Jae—” Sungjin growls warningly that falls on deaf ears.

Brian scoffs in return. “If your gun had been loaded there wouldn’t have been a fight in the first place.” How dare he? “And you wouldn’t need a fucking babysitter every time because you could actually do your job!”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion!” Jae spits and turns back to Sungjin—

“You literally did three seconds ago!”

“—Why did you even call _him_?!” Jae shrieks exasperatedly at Sungjin while he motions to Brian, who looks as aggravated as Jae feels. Both are like cats ready to jump at each other's throat every moment.

“Shut up, both of you!”

Sungjin’s voice is like a knife cutting through the tension, however, said tension doubles now in the room. Dowoon hides his amused grin behind his hand, gleefully watching the chaos unfolding in front of him. Jae wishes to hit the youngest's head for that.

(He needs a therapist to get to the bottom of where his violent tendencies come from. Otherwise he has to take anger management classes if his desire to hit people won’t calm down.)

Their boss actually stands up from his chair, towering over the technically taller Jae who is cowering down in his seat since a pissed-off Sungjin isn’t something simple to shrug off. Even Brian sits dutifully in his chair, mouth shut as if sewn together.

“I've had it up to here—” Sungjin motions with his hand above his head. “—with your endless nagging and childish quarrels. We’re a goddamn mob, people won’t take us serious if they see that two of my best men try to kill each other as soon as the other only breathes his direction.”

His boss’s hands hit the desk so hard that everyone in the room jumps back, clearly intimidated by angry businessman Sungjin. “Do me the favor and behave yourself, understood?”

He receives hesitant nods from everyone, even from Dowoon who isn’t scolded by their boss. Sungjin exhales deeply, his hand going through his hair and ruining his meticulous made hairstyle. He straightens the lapels of his suit jacket and sits down calmly, his hands intertwined in front of him.

“And Jae?” Jae gulps from the seat in front of the desk and nods stiffly. “I called Brian because he’s the one I trust the most with you except for Wonpil. I don’t care if you like each other or not. Brian is good with weapons and he won’t shoot you in cold blood. Trust, get it? I trust him with your life, and you should, too.”

Jae suppresses the urge to snort at that, to deny how Jae doesn’t trust Brian with his life; except that would be a lie, right?

“Okay, let’s get back to business. Any updates on the drug front?”

Jae is glad about the topic change and the breather it allows him to take.

“All’s fine and good. Channie said the streets are making good money and Felix is rather popular with the corporates. We should consider increasing our supply since the demand is getting higher.”

Sungjin nods in agreement. “You already have a plan?”

“Yup,” Jae pops the ‘p’, smiling smugly when he can practically hear Brian’s eyeroll. “I wanted to have a chat with Jackson to get some tips for better sources.”

Jae's smirk vanishes as Sungjin’s eyebrows rise in a skeptical expression. “Jackson? Are you sure that I shouldn’t talk to him? I could give Jaebeom a call—”

“Nah, it’s all good and fine,” Jae waves Sungjin off. “Jackson’s a cool guy, especially after a few drinks. Maybe you should give Jaebeom a short notice that we don’t intend to meddle with their business, just in case. But rest assured, I’ll manage on my own. That’s my job after all, right?”

“Well, if you say so…” Sungjin trails off as he writes himself a note on his to-do list. “Okay, okay. Brian?”

Jae revels in the fact that Brian flinches in his seat, seemingly brought back from deep thoughts that made him staring holes into Jae’s head. Maybe Jae should return the sentiment and just stare at Brian for the whole time without blinking once. Well, maybe with blinking, his eyes will thank him for that later.

“Nothing new in the casinos. People are coming and leave money, and no one tried to rob or kill me, so that’s a win. Income is steady, though no rise for months now.”

Brian is in charge for the casino and bar scene in the nicest part of their district, in which Sungjin takes a lot of pride in. Their casinos are the brightest in Seoul except for the one the king of Seoul’s underground scene owns, but still better than the casinos of other mobs. Jackson couldn’t keep up with Brian’s scene even if their income doubles.

The casinos serve to a lot of people; their main one satisfying the need of the higher class (those who can escape the law), the smaller ones tend to Seoul’s middle class (those who don’t care about the law). And for the more cunning people, Brian watches over the shady games that happen behind closed doors, far away from the glamour and bling of the rich. That is where the real money comes from; hustlers from their own ranks cheating the gullible players out of their money. It's tightly connected to the red-light district Dowoon watches over and Wonpil’s main base for his slowly establishing weapon trafficking. Even Jae needs the casinos as they are the best place to meet people and sell drugs.

“That’s expected and won’t change as long as we don’t get our hands on the _Army_ ,” Sungjin muses. Jae doesn’t like the face he makes. He can literally see the gears turning in his head by the way he taps the pen against the desk, his finger stroking his chin.

But he was busy watching Brian's face, so back to that. Their eyes suddenly meet and now Jae is too stubborn to look away first. He is glad that his heart is thumping normally and that his ears don’t turn red at the intense eye contact.

It's odd to see Brian serious and intense, as if he has too much he wants to say but no words for it. Not that it matters since Jae is deaf on both ears for anything Brian tries to tell him.

“Dowoon? How’s the new batch?”

Not even Sungjin’s voice can disrupt their stare-down contest.

“They’re nice and silent. Pretty to look at and really young. They’ll fit in nicely to our other boys and girls.”

Have Brian’s eyes always been this dark? Really, they are so pretty to look at. Fox-shaped and intense and those lips, hmm. Don’t let him start on those lips.

“Any problems with the shipment?”

No, let’s start with those lips because they are pink and shiny. Is he wearing lipstick to make them look like that? What do they taste like? Last thing he remembers are chapsticks with cherry flavor because Brian always had those dry lips to take care of, something he tried to change.

“A little bit. The shipment came in too late but we’re still investigating whether it’s due to normal inconveniences or someone fiddling with our business. The ship’s captain is being interrogated right now.”

Like his skin. His skin was dry and had some blemishes, something that changed with the nice tan that he sports now. It’s all smooth and pretty, a few scars here or there. Is he wearing make-up too? Jae knows that Brian likes to take care of his appearance meticulously since he became the face of their casino business.

“Hmm, I really hope that no one's meddling with us. We already have enough problems as it is. Wonpil is already down there to check what’s going on. This is giving me headache for weeks now.”

Oh.

Brian knows that Jae is checking him out. His face hasn’t changed since their eye contact started but now, now he’s wetting his lips slowly, sensually, his tongue running over them and wow, Jae needs to gulp because he can’t stop looking at that. That should be permitted, Jae should sue him. How dare he? How dare he doing that?

“Hey, are you two even listening?!”

They jump in unison as Sungjin’s voice cuts through their heated eye-make-out session. Jae really wants a hole to open up beneath him when he sees Sungjin’s angry and bewildered expression.

“Stop eye-fucking each other and start listening!”

“We weren’t—”

“--eye-fucking, what the hell?!” Jae and Brian choke at the same time.

“I sometimes really regret putting you two into the same room,” Sungjin mumbles to himself in despair, going through his hair to calm down. “As I was saying, the police station gets a new police inspector who could pose a threat. His name is—” 

“Nam Yoondo, but everyone calls him Eric Nam. I’m already on it,” Jae cuts Sungjin off and turns his back to Brian. He squirms in his seat to hide the embarrassing reaction his body has to Brian’s tongue tracing his lips. That’s material for some other time.

“Good, good. As for your meeting with Jackson and a potential one with Eric, as long as Wonpil’s not here you’re arranging them all in Younghyun’s casino.”

“What, why?!” Jae cries and Sungjin doesn’t have any of it.

“Because I said so! Maybe you both finally get your shit together and solve whatever tension is between you two. Hit or fuck each other, I don’t care!”

He really hates how red he gets in the face and splutters at Sungjin’s blunt choice of words and how they make his heart throb hard against his chest. Jae should really start thinking about what that means.

~~~

Sungjin dismissed them after a last few discussions and Jae is more than happy to finally leave the presence of a certain black-haired fox. He is determined to get back home quickly, change clothes, and start with his real workday. There are a lot of people that want to go out for lunch and dinner and Jae really needs to work out who he wants to meet when.

Yet, he finds himself sitting in a cab to his loft, thinking about the grey colors in the sky, watching the colorful dots of people wandering down the streets.

Rain starts falling, washing down the clear-view of his window and showing him instead the reflection of his hooded and pathetic self, red-dyed strands of hair sticking out, his skin as white as a sheet and littered with small scars, cheeks sunken in since he can’t seem to gain any weight no matter how hard he tries.

He is glad for the rain that washes down everything that hangs in the air since he forgot his meds in his haste that morning. It makes breathing easier than before.

He can’t help but remember the ghost of his past self, looking at his own reflection on the bus drive back home from school, that lonely boy who always had to sneeze and blow his nose, lanky and not attractive at all.

Jae hates to remember that ghost he used to be, the outcast and reject, that Korean boy in his American high school who only wanted to blow his nose in peace, except that his too big glasses were in the way.

He hates how he still can see the loser sometimes in those moments in between; when he is too tired to dress up, when he is too tired to even try to be someone else than that nerd. He sees his younger self who sits lonely in his single-window bedroom, playing the guitar for a small YouTube audience that appreciates him a little bit too much.

Maybe he should go back to blond. The red is all nice and super, but _he_ had once told him that blond looks nice on him, makes him pretty and even more attractive, especially if he wears those round glasses Jae had been enamored with.

Maybe then he would card through his hair again as if it’s the best thing in the world, maybe then he would look at him with adoration again as if Jae is the brightest star in the sky that they both we never able to reach.

Maybe he should go back to black and forget about all those things. Jae knows how the world keeps turning and that his dreams are what they are; just dreams drawn with the brightest colors to cover the grey reality beneath it.

At one point, Jae had really loved him. Felt the gravity that attracted him like a magnet, binding him to the blinding smiles and hushed words of a deep voice. Felt the chaos bursting in chest, exploding between sweet kisses and deep moans. Colorful and vibrant as if Jae was a canvas painted with the feelings of the other.

Colors that fade gray with every minute that passes.

And a deep, dark ocean that swallows him as a whole.

~~~

Jae really hates looking back to the past as it makes him find the faults in himself, the wrongs he did, the things that could be better.

Jae really hates looking back to the past as it makes him feel like a prisoner of his own being, one that gets hurt over and over again and is still none the wiser.

Jae really hates looking back to the past, so he just looks down to the city instead.

But future Jae will be looking back to the past and try to find the moment that will change everything. Is it the moment when Seunghyun died? Is it the moment when Younghyun will turn his world on its axis all over again?

Or is it that night when Jae comes home from a tiring day, annoyed from the abrupt morning meeting with Brian in Sungjin’s office and the blatant flirting that threw Jae for a loop?

(It doesn’t need a future Jae to tell him what threw the first stone into the dark sea. He knows what caused the waves to stir. But as the saying likes to go: ignorance is a bliss.)

There is something charming, something lulling about sitting in a car and watching the streets blurring together as everything shifts out of focus and merges into one. His eyes feel heavy, his contacts in for too long, the urge to scratch them out too high.

He can never stop watching. It doesn’t matter if it's day or night, sunny or rainy, if snow covers the earth or the sun warms the ocean; Jae will never stop watching the streets in peace and silence. It’s what he is used to, the world spinning around him no matter what and Jae playing his role as the silent observer.

Only during the nights he can look down to the city, his hand pressing against the window, the city kneeling to his feet. He loves the sight of darkness trying impossibly to cover every light, swallowing the gray colors and bringing out the brightest stars. He sees his reflection beneath him, sees the ghosts of his past, present and future and bears them no mind because the lights alone are capturing his attention.

Here in his car, he can’t do that. Here he has to watch them, the _what if_ s and _what not_ s, the different versions of himself unfolding in a world he doesn’t belong in. Can he change again? Can he become someone entirely else again?

“We’re here, Mr. Park.”

Jae knows. He sees the blank and dull walls of the underground garage, two armed man stationed in front of the elevator. Jae thanks his chauffeur as he leaves his car, greets the guards and wishes them a good night.

His movements feel mechanical, his limbs tired and his mind half-asleep. The picture of Brian playing with his lips is still haunting his mind, the annoying companion through brunch, two lunches, one dinner and one late-evening drink. The clock strikes midnight, the elevator slow, and Jae really wishes to see his bed again. Maybe he can sleep in tomorrow.

Probably not.

The thing with hunches is that Jae mostly doesn’t trust them. In his life he is more prone to paranoia than he seems to be. Every situation he walks into feels like a possible dead threat.

Jae has already learnt how to deal with his hunches that make his eye blink too fast and his hands and legs trembling in a nervous tick. It isn’t unusual for him to feel jittery in his own elevator. Nervousness brings the sweat. His shirt starts to cling at his back and his nose itches. That’s odd. Maybe he needs a new allergy medication.

Where sometimes Jae ignores his hunches, there are more times where he starts thinking about them, like, really hard thinking because his mind is suddenly on high alert and catching up on all the odd things that he missed on his short walk to the elevator.

The garage doors. They were open. That could be because another resident had just left the residence. But what about the bodyguards? They greeted Jae like any other would do, their eyes straight forward, only nodding back. Jae realizes he doesn’t know their faces. Can he remember something about stand-ins?

Then the smell in this elevator. He knows this smell somehow. It’s like a strong detergent mixed with a sweet note, a musky perfume. That shouldn’t bother him. Maybe the elevator got cleaned this morning and another tenant tried out a new perfume. His nose is reacting to the smell, he can feel his nostrils swelling. But there is still that light scent, something… familiar.

His heartbeat picks up. He’s nearly on his floor. His hands get clammy and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Five floors left.

His eyes are shaking, deep in thoughts.

Four floors left.

He fumbles his phone out of his pocket, three floors left, typing in a text, one floor left, the next best contact—

_Ding._

The doors slide open and Jae flinches, his hand already chucking his phone toward his plastic plant at the entrance. It’s dark, it’s silent, but the scent is everywhere. That sweet and musky scent that gets stronger with every step forward, mixing with the smell of cigarette smoke. It smells different than Brian’s brand, harsher and more aggressive, infiltrating his nose and wetting his eyes.

His hand reaches to his back, touching the handle of his gun as he nears the door to the living room, the only thing that connects his open living-space with the elevator.

His gun cocks as he takes it to his front, holding it securely between his fingers. His hand is shaking, he gulps. Light comes from the door crack, a light he certainly hadn’t left on. Jae never puts the living room lights on.

It’s only in front of his door that he hears the faint sound of music, the jazzy tunes making the scene more cliched and dramatic than it should be. Jae would laugh if he weren't scared shitless, so, he takes a deep breath to calm down.

One.

Two.

Three!

Jae kicks the door in, his weapon aimed right in front of him and—

“Oh shit!”

His gun clatters to the floor, disturbing the serene beat of the song but so fitting to the terror that is rushing through his veins. He holds his hands tight against his mouth, what for he can’t decide, whether be it to not scream loudly or to not retch. He really wishes he could turn his eyes away from the scene in front of him.

There is a body on the floor with eyes wide open, veins staining them red. The mouth is torn open in a silent scream, lips tinted blue and red on skin white as ash. The throat has marks scattered where it isn’t torn apart. Blood gushed over and spilled on the floor, painting everything in deep red.

The body, oh, Jae really doesn’t want to take in even more. There is more red than anything else as the body is slaughtered; one hand chopped of, the shirt ripped apart, a hole in the belly, bones sticking out and vital parts missing. His legs are twisted in a way they shouldn’t be, one shoe missing, the other white shoe soaked in its owner’s blood.

It’s disgusting. Utterly inhumane what is lying there, the work of a monster.

And Jae really tries hard to not flip out at the sight of a dead body on his floor, painting his black marble floor red. He tries really hard not to retch in disgust since it's in his job description to see people like that, tries really hard not to react in any further way as it would be the worst thing he could do in that moment.

One doesn’t show his biggest weakness when the kingpin of Seoul is listening to jazz music in your most precious chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ordernchaos2) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/ordernchaos2)! Scream, write or ask my anything, I'm open for every topic!


	2. Track 2: That innocent smile just where did it go to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, another chapter is finally up! I am still figuring out an upload schedule but I'll most probably stick to the weekend (or latest by monday).
> 
> Chapter title is from Day6's "I want to go back". I didn't exactly listen to that song when I wrote the chapter, but when I was writing and planning the story, I've read a lot of their lyrics that gave me a lot of inspiration. That's the reason why the chapters are going to be named after lines from Day6 songs.
> 
> Today's chapter introduces a bunch of people that will play a big role down the story. Oh, and Things are getting hot, reminding you of the tags again :)

Changes.

Jae had experienced many changes in his life. He was born in Argentina and moved back and forth between America and Canada until his family finally settled down in South Cali when he had just become six years old. He kissed a girl in middle school and then stuck to guys after his sexual awakening. He was an outcast in high school and tried to be more sociable in college. He played the guitar passionately and now thinks more about colors.

His biggest change was coming to Seoul to be a mobster.

He remembers the moment when they suggested it to him. When Park Sungjin reached out his hand and Jae took it without a second thought. Maybe he remembers the moment more dramatically than it was, but Jae always had a flair for the dramatic.

Just like in every other story of an innocent boy that suddenly finds himself walking on the worst path he could have ever chosen to begin with, Jae had hit a real low point in his life. Not the outsider teenager kind of low point, more like the real trouble low point.

Yes, he was more sociable in college. He started to talk louder and louder, made his opinions audible for everyone to be heard. People liked him, people hated him. He didn’t care because for the first time in years some people really liked him. Studied with him, drank coffees with him, went clubbing with him. College life was great, like the real American experience you want to get at the west coast.

It’s a long story of how it came to this; to Jae having a bloody lip and a black eye, his heart beating hard in his chest, the guitar case strap strangling him lightly. He was huffing under his breath, his sight swimming with the tears that swarmed his eyes, and his headache got worse with every step he took. The alley was dark and endless, and Jae had to use the wall to push him along as his knees buckled with the paralyzing fear surging through his veins.

Everything that could go to shit just did, so he really just wanted to crawl into a hole and cry his pain away, maybe even rot in there. It had been dark, the city looking down upon him, swallowing his pitiful form in its masses of skyscrapers blocking the light of the stars.

He could hear the steps coming, not running but still hunting, and Jae muffled his cries in desperation with his hand pressing hard against his hurting lips. His way wasn’t that long anymore, he’s nearly there. His heart picked up with every step he took.

“Come here, little chicken!” A voice bellowed through the alley, the dark rumble echoing off the walls and straight into Jae’s mind. “Stay still and it won’t hurt so bad, I promise. Don’t be a chicken!”

Jae picked up his speed, careful as not to make any noise, but the panic made him lose it. He couldn’t hear his steps anymore, only the blood pounding in his ears, the shrill noise filling the deafening silence around him.

The door was just there, and they were right behind him, only an arm’s reach away. Jae could smell his own blood on their blades, the fingers reaching out to get him.

His fists pounded on the door he nearly stumbled into, his screaming audible on the whole street, his desperate voice breaking, his hands hurting.

“Finally, chicken—”

“Jae?”

When the door opened, Jae felt like heaven had descended upon him. Something more than relief flooded through his veins, maybe even salvation. Never had he been so glad to see those eyes, dark and yet warm, shaped like those of a fox.

“I’m doing it, Younghyun, everything, anything, I’m doing it!” Jae pleaded, his hands reaching out for the warm ones, tears streaming down his face like a desperate child pleading to its mother. “Everything you told me, I’m gonna do it, just, please, take me away from here, take me with you, I don’t care what it takes, I don’t want to be here anymore, please—”

The guys behind him were frozen on their spot, Jae noticed when the steps had stopped, and when he eventually looked up during his shameful pleading, he knew why. There, behind Younghyun at the door, stood none other than Park Sungjin, a gun pointed at Jae. No, not at Jae, at the men behind Jae.

It was silent when Park Sungjin stepped up to the door, looking down to Jae with a deep frown etched on his face, eyes darting up to the men behind him.

“Park Jaehyung?”

Sungjin’s voice was as deep and smooth as ever, emanating some sort of authority that had Jae rooted to the ground and his throat dry, closing around his words. Jae only nodded in answer, breath stopping out of sheer fear.

“You would do _anything_ to come with me?”

That was it. That was the moment that would change everything. Live or die.

“Anything. I would do anything. I don’t care what or when or where, I would follow you everywhere and be anything you want me to be.”

Suddenly Sungjin’s weapon was being pushed against his forehead, and Jae was seeing his life coming to an end. This was it, him, only shy of being twenty-one years old, getting killed by the head of a mob.

“Do you even know what it means to become part of a mob?” Sungjin asked with a very heavily accented English. “Are you ready to become a monster yourself?”

Jae only had this one chance. This was his survival instinct kicking in. He wanted to life so badly.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t be human if I’m dead anyway. As a monster I am still alive.”

Sungjin’s finger rested on the trigger, twitching. Jae closed his eyes, counting in his head down to zero to calm his thoughts and regret everything that has gone wrong in his life.

In a different life, he wouldn’t be down here with a city mocking him. In another life, he would be high up, unreachable, mocking the city instead. That he promised to himself.

“You’re a fighter. I like it.”

The second relief of his day allowed Jae to take a desperately needed breath, the tears plunging out of his eyes as if he hadn’t cried for hours now. He couldn’t help himself, so, so glad to be still alive. And then—

His head whipped up at the sound of gunshots and bodies falling to the floor, a thud on the wet street, the smell of gunpowder and blood in the air. He looked up into Sungjin’s warm eyes and smile, a hand outstretched for him to take.

Jae didn’t know if he was about to make the best decision in his situation or seal the worst deal of his life.

The thing he does know _now_ is that Park Sungjin had saved his life and helped Jae to walk on his own feet again.

He was smiling as much as he could at Sungjin, at Younghyun behind him, freed in that he got another chance of being alive again; only to miss the deep frown etched on Younghyun’s face, darkness falling over his eyes.

The biggest change in his life happened at exactly this moment as Sungjin swept him off his feet and brought him to Seoul. The smaller change Jae unfortunately missed in his joy and excitement of a life in freedom.

Change comes with a price. And Jae pays it even without knowing what it is.

~~~

It’s funny how one situation can change the angle of how you are looking at things. How, at first, the sheer terror makes you throw up and lose your breathing, and, after a calm talk, you can sit in a chair like the calmness in person. Maybe it’s a way to cope with the happenings in front of him, maybe it’s simple denial, even though he is looking at the chaos right now.

The night progresses as time doesn’t dare to stop just for once. The music fades into silence with the playlist reaching its end. The fancy clock on his wall ticks down the seconds he is losing by staring. A constant reminder of time and changes.

Maybe he is lost enough in his thoughts again, so he really hasn’t heard the ping of the elevator and the light steps coming in.

Seconds come; seconds go.

Until Jae suddenly finds another gun pointed at him, the barrel’s threat not intimidating to him anymore. Not now.

His musings reach an end when he looks up from the pistol’s barrel to its owner’s face. Brown eyes light up in realization and then the gun’s far away from his face.

Jae studies the other’s face as he is only gradually coming back to reality. He stills as he sees the question in the other’s eyes, sees them flittering up and down, to him and to the blood bath.

“What happened here, hyung?”

It’s odd, though. This whole situation is odd as if everything has turned upside down, their bodies like mirrors of the other. Here he is, Jae, and there _he_ is, Younghyun, one of them ice-cold stone, the other warm-worried confusion. Neither of them dares to speak nor to make any movements.

There is Younghyun in not-so-nice clothes. His body swimming in a big sweater he probably sleeps in, his hair mussed up and shadows beneath his eyes.

Today is Younghyun’s free night, Jae remembers. He was probably sleeping until Jae had frantically texted the first person in his contacts. Maybe he should change the name since Brian is too high up in his contact list.

The point is: Younghyun looks totally out of place, like a student who walked into the wrong lecture after he’d overslept, a dumbfounded and anxiety ridden expression painted on their face. Jae doesn’t question why he has that look on his face; he knows.

Because here Jae is, sitting in his armchair facing the room instead of the city in his back. Jae is still in a fancy suit he wore for his business meetings; the first three buttons open to give people a peek of his chest. His right hand twirls around a glass between his fingers, brown liquid splashing from one side to another.

Jae never drinks whiskey, doesn’t like the bitter and wooden taste of it. Even odder is his left hand that plays with his lower lip, squishing it left and right and make them swollen and red from the ministration. An unlit cigarette sticks out from his mouth’s edge.

The oddest part of the situation though? Probably the corpse of the slaughtered and organ-less body resting on his floor. Maybe he should answer Younghyun since the other looks like he’s seconds away from throttling the answers out of Jae.

So, Jae places the glass on his small side-table and takes the cigarette out of his mouth, props his head against his hand and looks with half-closed eyes down at the corpse. He crosses his legs and perches the other hand atop of them.

“That’s one of my boys,” Jae finally explains without watching Younghyun’s reaction. “Maybe I should check in with Chan to get his name, maybe to find his murderer,” he mumbles to himself as he thinks back to his visitor’s words. His gut churns at the meaning behind their short talk and the big insinuation hidden behind it. His face stays blank, nonetheless.

“That’s one of ours?” Younghyun asks confused, and is that a little tremble in his voice that Jae detects? “How did he end up here?” The ' _did you kill him'_ goes unspoken between them. What a ridiculous question.

Jae sighs heavily and throws his head back, feeling all too tired now. It's reaching two in the night and it had to be Younghyun of all people that he notified.

He closes his eyes and tries to let himself fall into a deep state of mind, maybe a place where he can find a little bit of blank space. He wills himself to imagine the white innocence like a sea under him, his skin tingling as he touches the surface. It feels warm and soothing as the silence comforts him.

But Jae knows that it can’t stay like that. The white turns dark as the silence gets disrupted by a screeching high tone that hurt his ears. He is reeling, he is falling, and Jae can never stop doing so.

“He’s already been dead when I arrived here,” Jae eventually enlightens Younghyun who only grunts in response. Jae takes this as his cue to continue. “The guys at the elevator aren’t ours and the light was on when I came in. The king just broke into—”

“The king?”

“Yes, the fucking king came in to return a favor.”

For the first time since Younghyun has arrived in his flat their eyes meet, and it leaves Jae oddly cold.

There is no sexual tension at all, no flirty atmosphere, just two man in a delicate situation. It seems to Jae as if Younghyun is searching for something in his face, something Jae knows he must have found by the way his eyes harden. And Jae? Jae looks for something in Younghyun’s face, too, even though he doesn’t know what. He doesn’t find it anyway.

“Do you mean the king as in—”

“Kim fucking Namjoon.” Jae isn’t patient. Not tonight. The way Younghyun gapes at him with desperation making way on his face, with that horror in his eyes, it finally lets Jae freak out like he should have already done so.

He feels something breaking inside that makes him vulnerable and he really doesn’t need this right now. Jae is a mobster; he can’t be intimidated by Seoul’s kingpin visiting his flat with a slaughtered young boy as a present.

“I walked in here and Kim Namjoon sat in exact this chair.” He is surprised by how steady his voice sounds when he’s losing it. The heavy feeling of tiredness comes again, that urge to wail and retch because the most dangerous person in Seoul had entered his flat with a dead body in his tow. “And he told me he just wanted to reciprocate a nice gesture. One of his man found the boy already dead on one of his streets and Namjoon was so kind to bring him back.”

Younghyun looks more collected the more Jae falls apart. Jae wonders if this is a sick joke. It feels like a seesaw they are swinging on, one of them with the healing hands while the other needs to be repaired.

“Why did he bring him to you? Why break into your flat?”

Jae cackles desperately and somehow chokes while doing so. Oh god, he is losing it really hard. “That’s a message, dude, can’t you see it?!” Younghyun snorts at the English spilling out of Jae’s mouth. Jae sneers at him in return. “This is a warning. Someone out there is messing with us and Kim Namjoon was so kind to deliver the message. What a nice man, right?” Younghyun hesitates. “No, not right! I have tighter security than Sungjin and Kim Namjoon enters my flat like he owns it. This was a nice reminder that we’re just flies in a dead city and he’s the fucking grim reaper sitting on his throne of blood. That’s the kind of man he is. He took the boy’s organs as his delivery fee, for fuck’s sake!”

He sees Younghyun swallowing at the poetic imagery.

They both know what it means. And Jae’s head starts throbbing now that it sinks in how much work he will have to do. He has to inform Sungjin about it, he needs to call Chan, check up on his boys, the corpse has to vanish, a murderer to be found. That night is totally far from being over.

A big shadow falls over him. When Jae looks up from his hands again, he sees Younghyun standing directly in front of him, something strange in his eyes. Even if the light behind him covers his face in darkness, Jae feels like he can still see the brown color of his eyes though. They are still as bright as back then when he met him years ago. His chest tightens and his stomach is even more squeezy; Jae hates this feeling, especially how light it makes him feel.

“He didn’t harm you in any way, did he?”

Younghyun’s fingers rake through his mussed-up hair, then farther down to his neck, stroking his throat on their way back up, sliding along his jaw until he cradles Jae’s cheek into his hand and angles it up to make their eyes meet each other. Jae feels lost in this moment as he leans into the touch, so warm and comforting and maybe everything he needs right now.

“No, he didn’t.”

Jae’s voice is breathy and deep and his eyes close on their own. There is the white sea again, swallowing him up, right into the deep end, far away from the shallow. But when Jae has sunken in too deep, all he can see is the darkness lurking around him, pulling him deeper into the claws of his shadow.

Right then, Jae flinches away when he feels Younghyun leaning down, and both stop in their motion, staring at each other. The moment breaks with the deep sigh Brian lets out.

“I call someone for the mess on the floor and you call Sungjin? And maybe you should ring up your housekeeper to shrub the floor.”

Jae’s already on his way to the elevator where the plant he threw his phone into sits, throwing Brian a look over his shoulder. “I don’t have a housekeeper.”

That’s how Younghyun and Jae end up scrubbing the blood off his floor throughout the whole night.

~~~

Jae’s stare switches between the early morning rising behind the city skyline and the gleaming floor. He leans back in his armchair, slouching in there so his back meets the seating surface and his legs are stretched out before him. His ears are bleeding from the long calls he had to made, and his back hurts from the too long cleaning session. He’s still wearing his suit, his jacket discarded on the kitchen counter and his shirt tucked out of his pants. At least Brian looks as tired and worn out as him.

The melody of an old classic rock song plays quietly through his speakers (as quietly as a rock hymn can be played) and Jae would appreciate the song if he weren’t longing for a moment of silence.

Introvert who loves his alone time, remember?

Maybe he is still pissed about the dead body that was here (Jae can’t stress this fact enough; it troubles him somewhere deep in his mind) and even more now that Sungjin is pacing up and down in front of him. It ruins the pretty rug that was thankfully spared by the blood. He has long stopped listening to Sungjin’s speculations, always the same questions that Jae is answering robotically for the tenth time.

He understands that Sungjin is bothered by the fact that Namjoon had sought out Jae instead of him, the head of their mob. Jae really wishes he could give him the answer he wants to hear so that Sungjin finally leaves him alone to deal with the millions of other things he has to do. His mental to-do list is getting longer by every second he wastes, and he really doesn’t feel like working now.

Better even; Sungjin brought Dowoon with him who now is tapping his fingers against his leg with the rhythm of the music. It clocks down the ticking of a time bomb that has Jae’s sanity hanging on a very thin thread. The tapping stirs something very deep inside of him, like a beast that is waiting to finally lash out. And he already has a target.

Said target is leaning against his window panel right now and probably leaves some greasy spots on the glass that Jae will have to clean eventually. Brian’s sweater is even uglier in the daylight and his hair sags like a greasy mop on his head. He looks like a lost puppy which, unfortunately, makes it harder for Jae to kick him. No one wants to kick a lost puppy. Kim Namjoon would probably do so. That fucker.

“And you’re sure Namjoon said that his guys didn’t kill our boy?”

Jae rolls his eyes and groans deeply. “For god’s sake, no, they didn’t and Namjoon hadn't looked like he’s lying.” When he sees Sungjin opening his mouth again, he groans even loader. “If you ask me anything that I already answered again, I swear to god, I’m going to— _can you please stop that fucking tapping?!”_

“Aish, what’s wrong with you lately?” Sungjin asks with furrowed brows as Dowoon apologizes quietly and stops his movements. “You’re always on edge when I see you.”

Jae exhales deeply and rubs his face with both hands, then rakes through his hair to loosen up some of the stress in his mind. It sticks up in odd angles now. He sees Brian’s reflection smiling at him in amusement.

“Am I not allowed to be on edge after a kingpin broke into my home with a dead body in tow?”

“Yeah, but—”

“See, all things are good. I just want a few hours to myself, finally start on the things you told me to do and stop thinking about things I won’t figure out without help from the people that I have to call.”

Sungjin frowns at him in return and looks from one person to another before heaving a heavy sigh. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thank you!”

“One last thing, though.” Jae purses his lips in a pout and Sungjin ignores it. At least Brian and Dowoon chuckle. “Okay, two last things. First of all, stop acting like a petulant child. I understand that last night freaks you out a bit—”

“It doesn’t freak me out per se—”

“-but you seem to forget who you are. You are my right hand, Jae, and it’s time for you to stop being squeamish with dead people. It’s your job. You’re already lucky enough that Wonpil is glued by your side and takes care of that. But Wonpil isn’t always there for you and it’s not his job to be your babysitter.”

It’s not that Jae is denying what Sungjin says, even opposite, Jae knows he is right; but he can only meet Sungjin’s words with his own silence and avoid his eyes in shame. Maybe for the better, so he doesn’t have to see how Brian throws him a pitiful look.

“Second,” Sungjin goes on. “Please keep your eyes and ears open. Things went smooth the last month and I dare say they went too smooth. I’m worried that the person who’s meddling with our business is the same one who killed our boy. It’s just a hunch for now and maybe I’m too paranoid…” The hesitation in Sungjin’s voice makes it crystal clear that it's some serious matter to him. “But my hunches never disappointed me.”

Jae’s hunches neither do, too, and that has him worried even more. Because if his feeling is right… then things are about to go to shit.

“I’m going back to the office, call me when you have new information. Any of you.” Just before Sungjin leaves through the door, he turns around and glances first at Brian, then at Jae with a warm look. “Brian, go home and wash up before you go to the casino.” Brian nods in affirmation. “Jae? Dowoon will stay with you for a while, just don’t let him bother you too much. It’s for your own safety.”

“What about the girls?” Jae wonders.

When Dowoon beams, he knows something’s up. “My club mainly thrives in the night, so it’s easy to clear my schedule for the day ever since I have my new manager. I can easily work from here.” Especially when his grins widen even more. “Younghyun-hyung already agreed to watch over you during the night.”

Fuck his life.

His distaste for the situation probably shows on his face since Brian is smiling cheekily and Sungjin rolls his eyes while throwing in, “It’s just until Wonpil’s back. Still, the guy is more than your nanny, y’know?”

Jae purses his lips, Dowoon giggles behind his hand, and Brian looks lewdly at Sungjin who in return grimaces at the insinuation.

“No, I just don’t want to know. Really. No. Ew. No.”

With a shaking head, the first one finally leaves his flat and Jae feels a little bit lighter than before.

This leaves the one who is the most unwelcomed here. Jae’s head snaps towards Brian who is already staring at him and really, when is he not looking at Jae? At this point, Jae doesn’t even care anymore. He is so done with everything and hopes that his risen eyebrow conveys all of his feelings.

It takes only a few agonizing seconds until Brian sighs and raises his arms in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’m going. Just…” It would be quite endearing how Brian loiters around and rings with himself to say something. Stressing the _would be_ if Jae just weren’t salty and petty right now (Or in general). “You _are_ okay, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and now go, please,” Jae snaps and retreats by himself instead. Maybe Brian is faster gone if he walks up the stairs to the best place of his flat right after the view outside of his wide windows: his bedroom. He hears someone shuffling and then steps and it doesn’t take long until the ping of the elevator reaches his ear, and Jae feels like breathing again.

He is leaning against the wall of his bedroom, head thrown into his neck, as he slides down the wall right next to his precious guitar. He is too tired to think and still does that; his list is endlessly long, and his mind already filters through what to do first, sets priorities and tacks them onto the front of his head. He lets his head fall into his chest; his arms supported by his legs. The stretch is uncomfortable but relieving at the same time and Jae honestly could fall asleep like that.

“Sungjin’s right, you know.”

Jae jumps at the deep voice that suddenly hovers above him and clutches his heart as he throws Dowoon a nasty glare. When did he come up into his room?

“Jesus, give a guy some warning next time.”

“Hyung.” Dowoon looks expectantly at Jae. His voice is soothing, Jae admits. It softens even more when Dowoon sits down next to him, a warm and calming presence next to his. “What is going on here?” His finger taps against Jae’s head who swats his hand away.

“I’m just tired, Dowoonie.” Jae scoots further down, his legs now stretched out in front of him, and lets his head fall against Donwoon’s shoulder. “So, so tired.”

It feels nice when Dowoon’s cheek sets against his hair and his body gets warmer, especially when the younger’s arm wounds itself around his shoulder in a sideway hug. It’s comforting, brotherly, something that Jae had missed too much. It is silent for a few minutes and his breath evens out until Dowoon’s voice disrupts the darkness again.

“Maybe you should sleep for a bit.”

Jae takes a deep breath and sits up, rubbing against his tired eyes. “No, that’s not—I—” He is getting frustrated with himself and hates how he can’t translate his feelings into words. His mind fails to understand what he wants to express and his heart speeds up from the anxiety churning in his stomach. “I can’t go to sleep now. There’s just too much to do.”

Here is the thing he likes about Dowoon: He is quiet, even shy and he can take a clue on when to back off. Jae is eternally grateful for this character treat that makes Dowoon stand up and leave his room without protest or another word.

Finally, alone.

~~~

Jae’s idea of destressing is simple. He is sitting right in the middle of his bed, his phone somewhere discarded under the many layers of blankets, some of them thrown over his legs, some of them not. His head whips with the rhythm, his eyes fixated on the strings he plucks. The acoustic guitar feels right in his hands, the chords of his heart thrumming along with the melody he plays.

He is in a mood where he plays a song he recently heard somewhere on the radio or on the streets, trying to recreate their melody. He mostly ends up playing popular western pop-songs, a few kpop song and even rarer, songs he himself had composed a long time ago. Right now, he is playing a popular pop song from last summer that stuck with him.

During the last few hours, he was calling people until the sun set and Jae deemed it enough for today. His calls could be rated from endearingly charming over relaxing to downright worrying. He has a whole list of things he should probably tell Sungjin about.

The most charming call was with Jackson’s assistant. He sounded young on the phone, a little bit too quiet so Jae didn’t catch the name, only that it sounded too similar too Seunghyun, so he hadn’t thought it any further about it. Still, it was quite an endearing call, so Jae tried to be a little bit flirty to get an appointment with the busy mobster that is Jackson. Only to be informed eventually that Sungjin had already warned them about it.

(Jae didn’t get an appointment, though. Only a vague ‘he will meet you sometime soon’.)

The most relaxing call was with his good old friend Jamie. She is one of the few people Jae befriended that isn’t involved with any mob. Jamie is a stylist who is responsible for Jae’s ever-changing hair style. He is still thinking about what to do next with his hair, maybe going blond or blue because blue had been a wild time (he got promoted as Sungjin’s right hand when he had blue hair).

The most worrying call was with Chan, his sort of assistant. He was actually the first one on Jae’s list because it was one of their drug delivery boys that laid dead on Jae’s floor. Chan was remarkably calm about it (Jae had maybe left out the part where Kim Namjoon stole his organs) and told him everything about the new young recruit he recently found. Jae, being the kind and patient man he is, listened to every detail of Chan’s new assistant Jisung (the assistant of his assistant, _great_ ), a hustler found in one of Brian’s casinos, and how Chan wants Jae to approve of him. Jae only nodded along until Chan let the bomb drop.

(“I’m just worried he might vanish like the other boys,” Chan told him offhandedly and wait, what? Boys as in more than one boy?

“What do you mean? Who else is gone?” Jae interrupted into Chan’s storytime.

“Oh, haven’t you read the last report I sent to you?” Jae took off his phone of his ear and hastily entered his mail program, flittering over the hundreds of mails he usually ignores until he found it. Oh shit, he hadn’t read it.

Chan sighed at his boss’s mistake. “During the last few weeks, more and more boys are disappearing from our streets. At first, I thought they shat their pants and ran away like they sometimes do, but then the good ones started disappearing. I tried to look into it to see if we should be alarmed but came up with nothing. Maybe someone’s recruiting them for better money or maybe we should start to worry since one of them appeared dead at your doorstep.”

Jae groaned and went with his hand through his hair. They should one hundred percent be worried, that’s a disaster. “Please look further into the guys and warn the boys. And please look after yourself.”)

This is hell. Like the worst week Jae has ever since he joined Sungjin. Hell, even then life was easier. Sure, they are a small mob who are nothing in comparison to Bangtan or EXO and they should be glad that Jaebeom is Sungjin’s best friend. They earn their money, people fear them enough to not make any trouble, and Jae is happy with their status quo. Sungjin always talks about getting bigger and hopefully they’re getting there with Wonpil’s new weaponry branch. Jae would be happy if there weren’t some unknown people meddling with their business.

“Hey, señiorita, how much longer do you want to play that song?”

Jae stills in his playing and feels an annoying tingle going down his spine. Of course he would know the song, who wouldn’t in this time and age, but does he really have to call him _se_ _ñ_ _iorita_? Jae is the one who was born in Argentina, Brian is only pseudo Canadian and they’re talking only French and English over there.

Jae huffs. “How much longer do you want to stand there?”

He actually meant it as a dismission, not for Brian to walk into his room and falling on his knees on his bed. Jae feels his mattress shaking by the impact and looks sharply up to see Brian grinning because the fucker knows that it will annoy the hell out of Jae.

“Yah, Brian Kang, get off my bed!”

“Well, you told me to move, didn’t ya?”

“No, to turn around and leave me alone, not invade my personal space.”

Especially not to throw himself on his back and peer up at Jae with that beaming smile that is too cute to be annoyed at. It is hard to frown at Brian now, so Jae looks away to hide his warm cheeks and tucks at his strings again.

But even that he isn’t allowed as Brian takes his fingers in his hands to examine them. They are red and have indents due to strumming the strings. Only now Jae feels the pain in his fingertips. He concentrates on the pain since otherwise he has to acknowledge the tingling sensation that Brian’s fingers cause.

“At least use a pick when you play. Your fingers are too pretty for that.” His fingers leave Jae’s alone. Jae doesn’t know if he should title it as finally or already, so he stays silent and observes his hand now resting in his lap. “I like it better to play with a pick, otherwise you need longer nails and they get kind of ugly if you’re too lazy to take care of them.”

“You’re still playing the guitar?” Jae asks in surprise. Why, he doesn’t know, probably because Younghyun playing the guitar was the reason they met in the first place.

And wow, this is a memory Jae hasn’t visited in a long time. The picture of Younghyun with that long blond hair peeking out from a black hat, an old and used guitar in his hands, a voice so deep and yet so clear and high, right there on the stage in front of him with lights painting him in many colors.

Maybe Jae should stop right there and not dig any more memories out of pandora’s box.

“The bass. I only play the bass now.” Younghyun’s voice is deep and has this quality to it again, that lingering sense of longing and deep meaning.

“Huh? But didn’t you say you prefer the guitar over the bass?” Jae doesn’t mean to pry, doesn’t mean to be friendly, but this, this feels like he talks to Younghyun and not Brian, to the Younghyun he has once known.

Younghyun hums and props his head into his hand, staring up at Jae with those intense eyes again. “It doesn’t sound the same again when I play. It feels wrong. The guitar is by no means mine to play anymore.”

Jae ducks his head down to avoid these eyes and really wishes the man next to him could go back to Brian right now because with Younghyun, he feels too vulnerable. This isn’t what Jae wants, not right now, not anymore.

“Hyung—"

“What do you want, Brian?” Jae snaps frustrated. He grabs his guitar hard so that his knuckles turn white, his hands never stop to tremble. “What do you want from me?” He clenches his teeth and hates the silence between them. Why can’t he answer him? Is it so hard? “Why now?” he whispers brokenly and even to his own ears, it sounds heartbroken. Jae isn’t heartbroken, though. He had left his heart on a rainy day in Seoul.

Silent minutes tick by and Jae doesn’t dare to move. He doesn’t dare to breathe deeply, he doesn’t dare to look up, he doesn’t dare to think. He only sits there, still and silent, his eyes squeezing together, his body folded over his guitar.

The situation is broken by Brian himself when he stands up from the bed and walks to the door with a simple “I brought take-over. You should eat something”. Then he’s gone.

And Jae is left alone once again.

~~~

Jae's face is pressed against his pillow, his breaths come shallow. His body feels hot, sweat runs over his skin and electric waves run through his veins.

A hand grasps the strands of his hair tight, pushes his head even more into the cushion and Jae moans loudly in pleasure.

His hips and legs are straining at being in this position for so long and yet he doesn't feel any pain as the pleasure is overwhelmingly good. His prostate at this point is sensitive and abused but he loves every thrust more and more as they get deeper and harder. The other hand is grabbing him by his hips, squeezing hard and most probably leaving some marks which makes Jae cry out loud when his partner hits just the right place.

"Jae," a voice moans his name in that sexy deep baritone that Jae knows too well.

His mouth open, his jaw hurting at being pressed against the pillow hard, his hands grabbing painfully tight the sheet beneath him; this feels too good to be true. His black hair is falling into his eyes and huh, since when are they—

That is the moment the other lets go of him to bite into his neck, right at the spot he is sensitive, and gets him writhing and gasping and moaning shamelessly.

"Turn around. I want to see your pretty face."

Jae follows the commando pliantly, not without whining about the loss of the other's cock in his ass. He then throws his arms around his lover’s neck to bring him down for a hard and messy kiss. It's more teeth than tongue as Jae keeps biting at the other’s lips and catches his tongue that makes his partner giggling, a sound that has been engraved in his mind for a long time now.

His long, blond hair is tickling Jae's cheek as he is kissing down along his jawline, and Jae’s fingers play with the blond strands, tugging to lead him down to his sweet spots. Jae throws his legs around the other's hip to get him back to pounding into him again.

He has always been a tease, especially during sex, a trait Jae has a love-hate relationship to.

"Younghyun," Jae whines when Younghyun refuses to fuck him again, instead deciding to suck at his nipples.

Younghyun's hand skim down from his hair to his neck, his fingertips ghosting over his skin to leave a trail of goosebumps. Jae arches into the touch and pushes his hip and cock into Younghyun's belly to get the friction he desperately needs.

Younghyun’s hands enclose around his throat, then his thumbs press in and suddenly, Jae cannot breathe anymore and begins to panic when the pressure gets tighter and longer. His hands scratch against Younghyun in fear and terror as he tries to scream; only to fail miserably.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees Younghyun's stone set face. His brown eyes look red in the light coming through the window, a stark contrast to the different shades of black coloring them.

Maybe that's it. That is the way he is going to die, right at the hands of the person that he should have never met in the first place.

Younghyun was his start and is now his end; and with a racing heart, everything turns black.

~~~

Jae awakes with a jolt, his face pressed against his pillow and swallowing his moan as his hips buckle up into the mattress beneath him as his dick is hot and bothered and demanding every attention.

Still, the dream is fresh on his mind while his eyes try to adjust to the light falling into his room and blinding him.

Jae groans and turns around in his bed, his legs entangled within his sheets. His skin welcomes the cold breeze hitting his sweat drenched body and cooling him down.

The sun is about to rise on the horizon and the sky is of a beautiful mixture of pink and lavender, but Jae feels like a rainy day painted in various shades of gray because now he can add another dream on his list of things that are keeping him awake during the night.

It isn't so much about the fact that he had sex with Brian in his dream, it is more about the fact that Brian actively tried to kill him while giving him probably the best sex of his life.

Jae swallows and tries to forget the feeling of losing his breath and instead tries to find the open window in his room from where the breeze is coming from. The only things he finds is his door wide open. A curious thing, he wonders, maybe he just forgot to close it last night.

It is time to start the day at half six in the morning and Jae really hopes Dowoon is here instead of Brian (which he later finds out that yes, Brian had just left the flat). He grabs the next best sweater and hops under the shower.

~~~

"Jae-hyung, this is hopefully my new assistant, Jisung. Jisung, this is our chef, Park Jaehyung."

"Just Jae. Or hyung, I don't care."

After the worrying phone call the day before, Jae figured he should pay Chan a visit; one reason being the disappearing of his boys and the other being their new recruit that Chan couldn’t stop talking about.

Said recruit, Jisung, is currently bowing in front of Jae who studies him with a bit of caution (and maybe he takes a step back from him, too).

"Please take good care of me," Jisung ends his introduction while Jae can only stare at him.

He looks like Brian’s lovechild. Or maybe more like Brian's long-lost younger brother Jae is hundred percent sure doesn't exist in the first place. It freaks him out on way too many levels.

“Chan told me you're actually a hustler." The ‘ _like Brian’_ stays, thank God, only in his mind. “How come that you want to be working as Chan’s assistant? I’m sure Brian has more use of you than me.”

Jisung shrinks at Jae’s curt prompts a little bit into himself. It doesn’t help that he’s looking like Brian and brings Jae’s cold and harsh part out, so he takes his hands out of his hoodie pockets and takes the hoodie off his head, revealing a messy hair nest.

“Woah, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Jae glares at Chan’s sneering comment and ignores him further, focusing again on Jisung, who looks a bit more at ease than before.

“Younghyun-hyung wants me to prove that I have it in me and there’s no better place than the streets to prove it.”

This makes him snort really hard. “Fucking Brian said what?”

Jisung blinks in confusion at him. Cute. “Who’s Brian?”

“Ah, hyung is still a kid who’s petty and bullies everyone in calling Younghyun-hyung Brian,” Chan explains offhandedly and waves any lingering questions off. He got really good at ignoring Jae’s harsh glares.

“Oh,” Jisung smiles, “Younghyun-hyung said I should only come back if I either tortured or killed someone, otherwise I’m not hard enough to work for him as a hustler. He was impressed by my skills at the table but when I admitted that I haven’t held a gun in my life before, he sent me here…” Jisung trails off as Jae’s face darkened over the course of his retelling.

Jae knows why Brian did what he had done and understands it to a certain point, but looking here at the boy himself, Jae cannot help but to frown deeply. Jisung doesn’t look older than eighteen, give or take one or two years. Jae has always been a bit reluctant to take in people at such a young age and send them out for drug business. It is okay as long as they only deliver, but what Brian expects is for Jisung being more than that.

“And you’re okay with that?” When Jisung blinks at him cutely (yeah, no, if he is cute like that Jae can’t let him out on the streets), he elaborates. “Killing people?”

“Actually,” Chan swipes in and stands in front of Jisung, waving at the doors down the warehouse, “Jisung already helped me with an interrogation. Gave the guy some nice bruises and broken bones. I’m sure he’s all in, right?”

Jisung nods, and Jae’s eyebrows shoot up because a guy up for interrogation is news for him. “What? Who? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“It's it in the report…” Chan sighs deeply at Jae’s apologetic face. “That you obviously didn't read at all. Anyways, we found someone lurking around our warehouse and when he got caught, he tried to run away. Very suspicious, right? So, we brought him in here and try to pry out anything from him.”

While talking, Chan leads them down the warehouse, past the broad range of drugs being stored in here, right up to the door leading to a dark room with no window. A table with different tools and weapons neatly arranged on them stands to the side and right in the middle Jae spots a chair with a young boy in it.

Said boy is hunched over as far as he can, his hands and feet tied with zip ties to the chair. His body is drenched with dried blood, a view that nauseates Jae as the memories of a dead body lying on his floor procure in his mind.

He doesn’t get far into the room and tries to hide his flinch when Jisung steps up to the boy and grabs his hair to yank his head up. Jae’s sharp intake of breath cuts through the silence of the room but he can’t help it, not then the boy’s face is red and blue and has a pair of eyes full ablaze with anger and deep hatred.

“Sorry, boss, I know you don’t like such messes—”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I’m not used to it.” And that’s right. Jae is used to people looking beaten up, sometimes even worse than death. He's seen many corpses in his life, too much blood on his hands, and maybe it makes him sick in a way how the only reason he flinches at that view is because of the imagination of a dead body in his most sacred place. “What did you get out of him so far?”

“That’s the problem,” Chan replies with a frown. “Nothing. I actually wanted to give you a call about it and see if maybe you can make him sing. You see—” That part he is saying towards Jisung. “—Jae-hyung never fails to make people speak. That’s his special talent here.”

Chan is right. Jae just wishes he could show off his talent on any other day than today, when he’s wearing his suit and is all dressed-up instead of this slept in sweater and a bird’s nest for hair (don’t forget about the eye rings as deep as the Grand Canyon).

With a deep sigh he rakes through his hair and schools his expression, steps up to the rather young-looking boy and motions for Jisung to step away. The boy doesn’t lower his head, instead he looks right at Jae with those intense eyes.

“I can respect that.” Jae comments on the boy’s unwillingness to talk. He pushes the boy’s hair out of his face, trying not to grimace at the dry blood staining his hand. He grabs the hair hard but doesn’t pull. “Okay, who are you and why are you here?”

“I’m obviously tied to this chair and got some beatings,” the boy sneers at Jae with a husky voice that hasn’t been used much in the last hours. Jae doesn’t dwell on how much he must have screamed through the torture.

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t have happened if you spilled your tea earlier.”

“He had a gun with him,” Chan pipes in and takes the weapon from the table, dangles it in front of him, “We were able to track it down to one of Yugyeom’s stacks.”

“Ah… so you’re either in a gang or some kind of idiot trying to get into trouble.” Jae watches the boy’s stoic face and is impressed at how it doesn’t lose the full-on disgust on it. Brian probably would have a field day with this ounce of self-control. Maybe Jae should take a few notes on it to improve his own poker face so he can someday win one of Brian’s hustler games.

“I’m not talking now or at any point later,” the boy spits through clenched teeth.

“You know that you’ll die if you don’t? I could tell the pretty boy over there to shoot in your face right now.” Props to Jisung for not reacting in any way when Jae nods his head to his direction.

“Then do it,” the boy dares him with a cruel smile that someone young like him shouldn’t be able to form. Jae only smirks back.

“You’re loyal to a default, right?” Something glints in the boy’s eyes, a sign that shows Jae that he is on the right track. “He must be a good man if you follow him blindly into death.” The boy only continues to stare at him. “What if we offer you money? Like, a lot of money?” This doesn’t budge him at all. “Can he offer you so much more than we? Tell me your price.”

The boy lets his head hang down and laughs deeply. Jae knows a lost fight when he sees it. He is about to turn back and walk away when the boy speaks up, “You’re just a joke, you know? All of your money, all of your people can’t compare to _him_. Your money can’t buy my loyalty. I won’t talk, full-stop. So, either kill me or let me be, I don’t care.”

A few seconds of silence tick away. Jae is staring down to the boy before he moves, a step forward to their prisoner and he crouches down to peer up at his face, finding nothing more than a blank mask. Jae puts his hands on his knees and grabs them lightly.

“Let me tell you one thing: Loyalty is an honorable trait that every good boss knows to value in his men… But it means nothing here because sooner or later someone’s going to betray you. Just think ahead and save yourself the trouble.”

And with that he is out.

Jae nearly speedwalks his way out of the warehouse while Chan and Jisung are at his heels and try to keep up the pace. Jae’s mind is going on full speed, stacking the information away for later usage and things he has to find out now.

“Shall we kill him, hyung?”

It is Jisung’s question that eventually makes him stop in his tracks, and Chan walks right into him.

“No, not now.” The guys’ eyebrows rise up in sync and Jae is slightly impressed by that. “If I’m right, and I think I am, this boy is from one of the higher ups. Yugyeom’s weapon is just a false lead to confuse us. He’s too calm for what is happening to him and he said we can’t reach his boss. We won’t kill him before we know who is interested in our activities here.”

“Do you think it’s linked to—”

“Maybe, Channie, but I don’t know. I have no idea if there is any connection between him and our dead delivery boy.”

Chan nods in affirmation. “So, we keep him alive until you say otherwise.”

“Good. Ah, Jisung?” Jae fiddles with his bag that he took off the floor and searches through it. He finds his own gun and throws it to the younger. (Good thing he has another already sticking against his back.) “Welcome to the party. You’re Chan’s right hand from now on. Follow him everywhere and don’t leave his side. And Chan, look out for your boys. Something big is going on and as long as I don’t know what, take as many precautions as you can, clear?”

“Clear, boss!”

~~~

As Jae walks down the street, he is glad to be able to go anywhere without Dowoon or Brian breathing down his neck. It took him a lot of pleading to Sungjin to downgrade his bodyguards from those two to any of the guys that are already watching Jae’s home.

(“They obviously hadn’t done a good job when Kim Namjoon were able to walk in with a corpse in his hands,” Sungjin sighed exasperated.

Jae only retorted with a snidely ‘Kim Namjoon’.

“Point taken.”)

Dowoon had bidden his good-bye before Jae payed Chan his visit and went back to his red-light district duties. Brian hopefully stays put at his fancy Casino. The bodyguards following Jae are at least inconspicuous and nearly invisible which Jae is really thankful for.

The rain is pattering onto him and wets his figures since he hasn’t bothered to take an umbrella with him. He probably looks like a wet dog now, thankful that he is wearing contacts instead of his glasses, otherwise he would be a blind dog bumping into anyone.

So, it is a little bit odd that the rain suddenly stops and the loud drum of rain against an umbrella surrounds him. Even odder: when he looks up, a man a little bit taller than himself walks next to him and stares directly ahead.

Jae studies his profile with the cute nose and plush lips, a rather handsome fellow. His black hair is meticulous made and his eyes are fierce but not too intense. Jae regrets for the second time of the day to look unpresentable. Especially when the man begins to talk in a deep voice that rivals Brian’s own one.

“Nice wetter, isn’t it?”

Jae is instantly taken aback at the smooth English. Something akin to excitement rushes through his veins at the prospect of conversing with someone in his mother tongue.

“Odd for someone to call rain nice,” Jae chuckles and glances up at the red umbrella above him.

“It reminds me of home,” handsome stranger confesses and smirks at Jae. “Seoul isn’t my favorite big city.”

He has a nice smile. He has nice lips. They are a nice change from Brian’s lips. Jae can get used to it.

“Where are you from then?”

“Chicago,” and Jae hearts beats a little bit lighter, “it’s not the same as L.A. but it’s home, I guess.”

And down it goes. His heart plummets and Jae’s head turns straight ahead. Handsome stranger’s mirrors his frown (Jae prefers the flirty expression over this).

He is kicking himself for falling for this, he should have known better. Years, he is working for years as a mobster and a simple small talk throws him for a loop.

(No, a dead body throws him for a loop. He really has to get his shit together.)

“Six has something I am interested in and I was hoping you could help me with that, Park Jaehyung-ssi.”

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you his. But if you listen—”

“Then no.” On other days Jae would listen to their propositions, but not now. Now he is pissed and annoyed and only wants the shelter of his home. “Call my assistant for an appointment and maybe I’ll call you back.”

“You don’t understand, Park Jaehyung-ssi,” stranger walks ahead and turns to Jae to look directly at him. Jae marvels at the pretty black suit before he remembers that this is actually a business talk. “This isn’t me asking you for this, this is me demanding for it in a friendly and nice way.”

Jae’s frown deepens even more and snaps at the other. “Yeah, no. As far as I understand it, _you_ want something from _me_ , so we do it _my_ way. And since you know who I am, I take it you know how things go. So, call my assistant and schedule an appointment.”

“You don’t have an assistant,” stranger says after a few silent seconds and looks amused at Jae.

Jae sighs and snatches his wallet out of his bag. He takes out a card and holds it towards the stranger. “Call this number and schedule an appointment. I’m in no mood to make business, so take what you get.”

Stranger offers him a card in return and bows politely. “Thank you, Park Jaehyung-ssi. I hope we’ll meet soon again.”

Jae watches the stranger retreating with his umbrella. He is getting wet from the rain again. His body shivers from the cold and his clothes stick to his skin, so Jae gets back on his way to the office. He eyes curiously the card and the name engraves itself in his mind.

_Johnny Suh._

And nothing else is written there except for a fancy logo saying _NCT._

~~~

“Have you ever heard of Johnny Suh or NCT?”

It’s a common sight for he and Sungjin to go out for dinner in their usual hole in the wall restaurant. The old lady is nice and hadn’t shrieked when Sungjin entered the shop with his demanding aura and checked out the restaurant; instead she offered them a nice table at the far end of the small shop. Turns out that Sungjin and the old know know each other from his younger years as she had fed him through his childhood with good noodle soup. Since then Sungjin makes sure to pay her a visit from time to time.

Jae usually never gets treated for dinner and even more often pays for Sungjin (screw that dumb rule of the oldest buying food for the younger), so it’s a nice change for once. Sungjin probably pitied Jay for his wet puppy look and decided to have a warm dinner instead of the cold meeting room Sungjin would describe as stylish.

(It’s minimalistic and empty with no style at all.)

“No, they don’t ring any bells. Why?”

Sungjin is a good eater and most of the dishes on the table are of his. Jae sneaks off little bites for himself which Sungjin is most probably aware of.

“Guy told me we have something he’s interested in but didn’t tell me what.”

Jae takes a bite of the kimchi in front of him and hears Sungjin’s hum as he dabs his lips, his eyes cast down at the empty bowl.

“Ahjumma, can I have another bowl, please?” They watch the old woman get the bowl even before Sungjin speaks. “Well, if he’s really interested in that, he’ll come back. Otherwise, good for us, we have enough on our plates.”

Jae hums in agreement and they eat in silence again. The old woman brings the soup for Sungjin, and Jae asks for a refill of his drink while his gaze is caught on the rain outside. It’s a rainy summer month, a complete mirror for Jae’s moods. The hotness that makes him sweat, the rain that makes him moody, the gray overshadowing the vibrant colors.

“Any news?”

Sungjin’s voice cuts through his thoughts. The old woman brings him a new glass filled with coke out of which Jae takes a sip before answering.

“Jackson agreed to the meeting. Thanks for the head ups to Jaebeom by the way—”

“He saw it coming, to be honest. Our business is thriving, he told me, and I’m inclined to agree.”

“-yeah, well. Except, we have a big problem with our business.”

Sungjin stills in his motions and sets his chop sticks onto his bowl, his smile turning down into a frown. The lines in his face harden and Jae is once again reminded at the fact that Sungjin is the head of a mob that sells drugs and weapons and people (and sometimes even kills them). It will never cease him to amaze at how Sungjin can be warm and soft and eat soup like a normal man in one moment and then in the next be the cold and harsh businessman who toys with people’s life for a living.

“Please tell me it’s nothing serious.”

“I wish I could.”

Sungjin groans and runs his fingers through his hair, his face gives away how stressed out he is in reality. “Isn’t it enough that Wonpil is on a killing spree to find the man who’s abducted his ship?”

“Wonpil is doing what?” That dude sometimes really has no chill, Jae muses.

“The weapon shipment, one load is missing, and no one talks. You know how Wonpil gets when people refuse to talk.”

“Yeah…” He probably shouldn’t tell Wonpil about the boy in their warehouse. “If we’re talking about people not talking… Chan caught one in my warehouse. He was lingering around and spying on them, so they took him in. Hasn’t said a word since then.”

“Did you talk to him?”

Their gazes meet and it doesn’t need any more words. Sungjin knows the answer instantly and his nervous tick, the hand running through his hair, gives away his frustration.

“How bad is it, hyung?”

Jae hesitates and goes through the facts he has in mind. He swallows hard before he lowers his eyes, focusing on the lone piece of chicken on Sungjin’s plate. His hand itches to take it and eat it. Instead, he looks up into Sungjin’s eyes again.

“He may or may not be from one of the higher ups. But he’s definitely from someone with higher influence than us. It just doesn’t make sense why. I can’t see any clear objective.”

“Do you think he’s linked to the dead delivery boy?”

“I don’t know. Could be, could not. He could be the guy Johnny Suh wants, he could be the reason why Kim Namjoon visited me. Everything is possible. Our only trace is a weapon that comes from Yugyeom’s stash, but we won’t know more before someone asks him.”

“Can you do it, or should I?”

It is sweet of Sungjin to offer but Jae knows he can’t let him do it. There is a reason Jae is Sungjin’s right hand and right now, Jae feels like he has to prove himself again. Sungjin was right yesterday, Jae is squeamish and needs to grow up. He is a mobster, he is a puppeteer, the master of his kind. And death is a tool too powerful to be ignored.

“I’ll do it, don’t worry. For now, I told Chan and his new assistant to keep him alive.”

“Assistant?”

“Han Jisung. He’s actually a hustler.”

“Like Brian?”

Jae smiles tightly and Sungjin mirrors it with his own amused grin. “You won’t believe me how alike they are. I had to suppress my urge to punch him in the face.”

Sungjin laughs heartily, a sound Jae didn't know he missed, but here it is, warm and straight out of the belly. An overall warm feeling blankets Jae that makes him chuckle to himself as the sun finally peaks through the clouds and lighten up the scene.

The sunshine lets Sungjin’s hair glimmer in a light brown, a look that makes his boss even younger and more boyish than ever. Sungjin is younger than him, Jae painfully realizes again, so young and so tainted. Jae wishes he could cherish the innocent facets of Park Sungjin even more than the authority he is.

“Maybe I’ll pay Chan a visit. I’m curious about the boy.”

“Yeah, you should.”

But now is the time for the other bad news. Jae hates how he has to ruin the light mood he just created. “We have another problem, though. A bigger one. Maybe. Chan was kind of vague about it.”

“Why, Jae, why?” Sungjin complains loudly and takes his chopsticks up again. He flitters through the various meals on the table, eventually hoovers over the piece of chicken.

“My delivery boys keep disappearing. Even the good ones. Chan told me it’s usually nothing to worry about, but now… the boys are missing without a trace. Just gone. There’s no pattern and no answer, except, well…”

“Until one of them appeared dead again.” His chopsticks pick the last piece of chicken. Jae’s eyes follow the movement, follow the chicken on its way to Sungjin’s mouth. “Is Chan on it?”

“Yeah, he’s not resting before the bastard’s caught. Meanwhile, I look into it, too. Seoul talks and it’s time to listen.”

“Good, good. I trust you, Jae, you’re going to get the bastard.” The piece of chicken finally finds its destination. Just before Sungjin takes a bite of it, he stills and sinks his hand down again. “You know what you have to do eventually ? You won’t disappoint me then, alright?”

His eyes are fixed on the chicken, a fixture he can’t turn away from, like an anomaly he can’t fix. He breathes a small ‘ _Yes’_ before the chicken wanders into Sungjin’s mouth, being chewed loudly and thoroughly, then swallowed down with a sip of Soju, bitter and burning.

“Yes, I won’t,” Jae says this time firmer.

A proud smile is his answer.

~~~

Once Jae reaches his home again, the night arrives soon enough, and he sighs in relief when Brian isn’t there. He takes off his hoody on his way into the living room, leaving him only in a shirt and jeans. The air is chilly, especially when the images of a corpse on his marble floor appear in front of his inner eye.

Jae browses through his mail and gets stuck on one letter, throws the rest on the couch table and walks up right to the window. The letter is nicely designed with thick paper and an engraved logo that can be felt instead. His fingers are trembling when he opens the envelope and reveal a short and simple letter with a poem in a neat writing.

_“The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.”_

_September 7 th_

His eyes soak in the lines, words branding into his mind, leaving his body hot all over. His face is blank, his heart won’t slow down and the tremble in his hands never cease. He feels tainted and dirty and tired—

Jae finds the lighter easily on his couch table, a reminiscent of Kim Namjoon’s visit, as do the cigarettes and whiskey, for which Jae hasn’t found the motivation to get rid of, yet. So, he takes the lighter in his hands and pushes a cigarette into his mouth, turns back to his spot in front of the window and looks down onto the city.

His hands find their way to his mouth. With only one zip, the tip of the cigarette is burning and he’s inhaling the smoke that heats his blazing body even more. Now Jae feels truly like burning inside, burning into black ashes, just as the letter does when he holds it over the fire.

He must make a spectacular view for the people he knows; Park Jaehyung looking like a mess with his flat hair and crumpled shirt, a cigarette alight in his mouth, puffing the smoke, the paper in his hands burning with flames that are licking their way up to hurt him. His gaze is fixed on the fire, his small eyes shining in the light yellow and red, his face illuminated but shadowed at the same time.

A gasp tears his gaze towards the hallway where he sees Brian standing frozen in his spot. His mouth falls open as his eyes drink in the view of Jae, the paper between his fingers nearly burnt to ashes.

They look at each other with their gazes connected, and Jae can feel another kind of heat being born in his belly and burning deeply in his heart, especially when Brian takes shallow breaths that never seem to be enough.

Jae lets go of the paper, the remains burning down in their fall, and crosses his way over to Brian while taking a drag again, right before he stands directly in front of him. His fingers lift to admire Brian’s face in the light of the city and caress the spots plunged into darkness, feeling the way how the other leans into the touch. His fingers strive down to his neck, pressing lightly at the larynx just like Brian did in his dream, only Jae does it very lightly.

“Hyung,” Younghyun whimpers, and it ignites something in Jae, something powerful and scaring.

He takes another deep drag from his cigarette, takes it out of his mouth while his fingers tip Younghyun’s chin back and wander up towards his lower lip to push around the plush flesh, wet from the tongue that darts out of Younghyun’s mouth.

He plies Younghyun’s mouth apart and leans down, their lips nearly brushing but never really touching, and opens his own mouth to leave the smoke out. He sees, he feels, he hears Younghyun taking a deep breath to inhale the smoke.

It’s erotic on a level that Jae can’t comprehend in that moment. It makes something animalistic stir in his belly, it makes his blood shoot down to his dick, it makes him push Younghyun back and back until he hits a wall, his fingers back against his neck to press down harder.

Jae takes another deep drag and repeats the inhale-exhale game with Younghyun, who now has a harder time to breathe since Jae’s hand crushes his airway, yet he tries anyway and Jae admires how pliant Younghyun is between his fingers.

Younghyun’s hands suddenly clasp around Jae’s arm and pull, trying to pull his hand away from his neck, and Jae can only watch him in a trance.

“Jae,” Younghyun wheezes and just like that, the moment’s gone and Jae lets him go, flinches back as if stung and turns his back towards Brian.

Brian, who despite heaving hard and trying to catch his breath, reaches out for Jae’s arm to stop him in his tracks.

“What the fuck was that?” Brian prompts with a hoarse voice and coughs.

Jae doesn’t feel ready to face the other as he himself is surprised about his own actions and stares down at his hands and the cigarette between his fingers.

“Jae! Are you on drugs or what?”

“No, no, I…” Jae trails off and tries to search for words that he doesn’t have. He can’t explain what that was and yet, he knows why he did that. Jae knows what is going on in his mind and he has never been thinking clearer than ever before. “I only wanted to get my shit together.”

“This looks more like you’re losing it completely!”

“You don’t know a thing about me!” Jae snaps and turns with fletched teeth towards Brian that he finds staring at Jae with those intense eyes again.

This stoic face that holds so many emotions and so many meanings and always breaks something in Jae, that tears him apart in the night and set him back together in the morning.

(Yet he never feels completed again.)

“Believe me, I know enough about you.”

Jae lips tremble as the never-leaving question tries to find their way out, a question Jae is much too proud to speak out loud, a question Jae is too self-conscious to never forget. Brian can’t know enough about him; he couldn't have explored everything about Jae and then decided that—

In the end, Jae stalks off to his bedroom after a few silent minutes and throws his door shut like the petulant child he obviously is. He needs a few minutes to collect himself; instead he hears Brian’s steps in the hallway.

Despite, Brian never knocks. Brian never comes in.

That’s the thing about Brian; annoying and off-putting at most but when it comes down to it, he backs off. He just backs off. And leaves.

And Jae is standing in a room with the city in his back, the only lights coming from the colossal skyscrapers and the moon in the sky, all alone and without a color.

As his head plonks against the door and his body sinks to the floor, he sees the shadow beneath the crack getting bigger and bigger. His hand touches he wood, and he feels someone leaning against it, another bump because Brian probably put his own head against the door. Always there but not really _here_.

Jae swallows and moves his mouth, no word ever leaving though. His heart aches and tears are prickling against his eyes. His head lowers in shame as the memories are fluttering through his mind.

He can’t stop now that it’s broken, that he’s broken, still about the same reason he is hung up on ever since.

He folds into himself, his head hanging between his legs, his hands still against the door, blending in with the shadow as if hiding in shame.

And he knows that Younghyun’s there on the other side silently listening and never saying a word as if Jae’s pain is something worth listening to.

Jae has experienced many changes in his life. He once had been a young college boy with a mind determinedly set on finally making friends and maybe fall in love on the way. He was ready to change his life completely. There was just one thing Jae hadn’t anticipated then:

Change comes with a price. If Jae had known that it meant paying with his innocent heart, maybe then he wouldn’t have been here at all.

Maybe he would have been lying dead in that dirty alley instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote is from Hermann Hesse's Demian (Maybe some of you get the reference ;) )
> 
> Next week - Track 3: I walk with a swagger like the whole world is underneath my feet


	3. Track 3: I walk with a swagger like the whole world is underneath my feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, I am really happy that guys seem to like it! I am really happy about every comment, so thanks for that!
> 
> Chapter title is from Day6's "So cool". Really good song, can only recommend it to you (just like their whole discography).
> 
> Today's chapter, once again, will introduce a bunch of people! One of them even a major player in the story. Hope you'll like it!

Days have gone by and Jae is none the wiser. He’d been going around the streets and talking to each of his delivery boys to get any news out of them, but nada.

The vanished boys were doing their job on their own when it had happened and neither family nor friends have any idea about the why or where or how.

Same goes to their little prisoner who still hasn’t said a word. Jae noticed with relief that he looks better with each visit, no more blood that flows down on his face or ugly bruises covering his fair skin. At this point, Jae knows that he is from one of the higher mobs, but not one of them made any claim for the boy.

And the dead boy in his flat? Still a dead body that comes now with a dead-end in Jae’s investigation. It’s not as if he could wander into Bangtan’s territory to examine the crime scene. He misses dreadfully their former police officer that just recently got shot and isn’t available for such things anymore.

Thus, Jae took a few hours to himself and tuned in the radio to listen to what the good old folk listens to at home.

(A short side information: By home Jae still means America.)

Jae is even after nearly a decade in Korea still American through and through as Wonpil often likes to point out (especially when it comes to his eating habits. Jae is used to Korean cuisine by now, however he likes to indulge into the typical American fast food from time to time when he feels like saying ‘ _fuck you_ ’ to his many allergies. It never ends that well for him, but hey, for what it’s worth, Jae misses home a little bit less then).

On a more positive note, Jae’s ‘me’-time has increased ever since his and Brian’s last confrontation where Jae hugged himself to sleep behind his bedroom door and Brian listened to him doing so. Thinking about it now it is a very embarrassing thing to do, especially because how vulnerable he was and how his feelings spilled out that night; so, he’s really thankful for Brian to give him the space he needs. It doesn’t mean he is _not_ there every night and brings him take-out after sending his on-duty bodyguards outside, no, Brian is always there in his living room.

Sometimes, Brian is hunching over Jae’s dining table with too many papers surrounding him (Brian is still the typical suburban accountant in his heart who majored in business in college) to check the money and taxes of his casino and sometimes even that of their mob (that sounds contradictory in itself, a mob that does its taxes like a very normal corporate), even though they had a full-time not-hustling accountant. It’s destressing, Brian said, it helps him staying sane.

(Back when Brian explained that to Sungjin after his boss wondered about the taxes, nearly everyone in the room quickly asked Brian to do theirs.)

(Jae didn’t. Brian has been his accountant from the very beginning, _take that you fuckers, Jae was here first_.)

Sometimes, Brian is trying to make some breakfast that varies between the typical American bread, eggs and pancakes; if Brian decides he misses Canada too much, he even takes out Jae’s secret stash of maple syrup that he surely hasn’t owned before Brian’s first Canadian breakfast; and Korean breakfast with rice and meat and eggs which is nearly a full course meal in the morning.

(Really, who has even the time to cook a full course meal in the morning? College-time Jae was happy when he had the time for a coup of cereal in the morning.)

Sometimes, and those are Jae’s most favorite days, Brian is sleeping peacefully on the couch (with or without the TV in the background, depending on which variety show they are showing) and looks nearly ethereal those times. His mouth is hanging open slightly, he snores softly, his eyes flittering beneath those lids. He looks so boyish and innocent that it makes something in Jae’s heart bloom. Not that Jae would admit that even if you point a gun at his chest (please don’t, there are enough weapons being pointed at him lately).

One time he even smiled softly to himself when Brian’s lips were quirking up in his sleep, and at another time Jae was caressing his cheek when Brian had a nightmare… which to say, both things never happened in case someone asks.

Now Jae is lying awake in his bed, stares at the ceiling and goes through everything that happened during the last days. July has long begun, and the heat got heavier, the raining days ceased to be. Maybe it’s time to turn back to normal tomorrow. Especially since he has his special appointment with Jamie tomorrow.

~~~

The caresses are soft, the kisses linger longer and longer, and sometimes even a tongue darts out to taste the skin. Really, all Jae had wanted to do was to read the book in peace and enjoy the early spring days as long as his allergy medicaments are working. Instead, his neck is stretched as someone kisses his skin there over and over again; his lips tickling and making Jae beam at his book despite of his tries of reading the lines.

The other’s hand is caressing him over his shirt, soft and meaningful over his heart. The grass is tickling his skin where his shirt had ridden up, and his lover takes the opportunity to dip his hand beneath the shirt, fondling his belly and then chest, finding their way to his nipple.

Jae jumps in the grass and half-heartedly pushes his lover away while they both are giggling.

“Stop it already—” he heaves between giggles, “We’re in the middle of the campus, everyone could see.”

He only gets a wide grin as answer that makes Jae’s heartbeat quicken, the butterflies in his belly going crazy at that. This smile is so as pure and beautiful as that from an angel being sent from heaven. Jae would follow him without a word.

“There’s no one here. It’s Sunday,” his lover replies in his deep voice that sends shivers through Jae’s body. Yet, he still takes his hand out from Jae’s shirt and continues his ministrations above it (and maybe Jae misses the touch a little bit too much).

“Still, I’m trying to read and to appreciate that I can breathe under a tree without sneezing every three seconds.”

Jae turns around to attend to the book again, even gets to read a few lines before the other speaks up again.

“What even are you reading?”

“Nothing that your shallow mind could comprehend.”

“Yah!”

Jae laughs heartfully at the scandalized expression on his lover’s face and falls down again, grass tickling his cheeks and sunshine warming his skin. It’s eerily silent if Jae thinks about it, no birds and no people, just the two of them.

When he opens his eyes again, his lover is leaning directly over him, his face only a few inches apart. He can feel his breath on his lips and his tongue darts out in eagerness when Jae notes the darkness in the other’s eyes.

“Don’t underestimate me, Park Jaehyung,” his lover growls, and Jae chuckles while he raises his chin in a challenge.

“Then show me, Kang Younghyun.”

Jae would love to describe the meeting of their lips as something painfully beautiful, as if the world rightens itself at this moment and stops turning just so that it could continue forever.

But it isn’t like that. It is just a soft and long kiss between two college students enjoying the youth and blossoming love of two men. It is just the electric connection of two lonely souls searching for the deep end in a shallow world. It is just that, a kiss that fills them with so many colors of spring in a gray and bland city. It is their safe space and place, their intimate embrace in a green and silent park, outside from the whole world.

Although, when Jae opens his eyes again, all he can see is that intense gaze of Younghyun that closes itself off but still never achieves to hide that lingering sadness behind his eyes.

Jae wants to reach out and ask, wants to push that hair out of Younghyun’s face and caress his cheeks but Jae can’t— Jae can’t because suddenly, two hands are pressing down on his neck and he’s choking and gasping and whimpering because he just wants to breathe again.

Jae senses a pattern when the world turns black around him and he gasps awake in his bed back in Seoul.

~~~

He is freshly showered and walking down the stairs to the living room when the nightmare comes back to his mind, and his stomach squeezes painfully at the thought of seeing Brian in his flat.

The nightmares are the usual; they all start with an idyllic scene straight out of a book and end with Jae being strangled to death and seeing the darkness blanketing him. Sometimes his dreams are too real, sometimes they come directly out of his memories and sometimes they are just Brian. Most times they are a mix of everything.

To say that Jae is relieved by the absence of Brian this morning would be an understatement; Jae is nearly jumping in glee when he sees a simple note on his couch table with Brian’s scrawny handwriting. Apparently, something came up in one of his casinos and he has to take care of it immediately. Good for Jae.

His day is packed tight with appointments and things to do, so he just walks right into his entrance hallway to check for the mail (that Brian kindly brings up every time he walks in and out) and is satisfied at the many boxes laying around.

One after another he brings to his long sofa and lastly, he carries also a knife from the kitchen to slid them open. Each box contains something new and exciting; a new pair of clothing or jewelry that contains everything from a simple sweater to a new suit, every kind of cloth and every color imaginable.

One box only contains many different glasses, from golden and round to black and square ones, a perfect fit. He even ordered one box of make-up from a wish list that Wonpil had once made for him when Jae asked one time too often if he can borrow some eyeliner.

The elevator pings, and Jae ignores it since he already knows who is arriving, instead admiring the blue denim blouse against the sunlight streaming through his window.

“Wow, were you finally tired of your thrift shop clothes?” A female voice mocks him in English.

Jae tries not to smile too hard at her entrance because he doesn’t want to give her satisfaction of him having missed her, so his face is a perfect blank slate when turns around to throw her a deep glare.

Park Jimin, or Jamie as she wishes to be called, sets her bag down next to the couch and digs through his many new clothes, rising her eyebrows at the different expensive brands Jae treats himself to.

“You need to fresh up your jabs, Jamie, they’re getting old.”

“Just like you,” Jamie counters while she inspects a blue pearl necklace. “Aren’t you already near the thirty?”

“I’m young in my heart,” Jae snorts and starts to collect his clothes with the help of his friend. “Actually, I don’t have that much time today, I’m on a tight schedule here.”

“I’d be in your shoes, too. Are those wrinkles around your eyes already?”

How Jae had missed this; this easy banter between them that makes his heart lighter instead of tighter. There are no words about dead bodies, leeching millionaires or what’s the best cocaine on the market.

(Which reminds him that he should make some research on that before the evening. Maybe he should check his notebook later and see what he already knows. It’s good to be prepared, it’s better to show off.)

While Jae brings his clothes into his room, he hears Jamie shuffling through the flat to make everything ready for their make-over session.

Back when Jae had just arrived in Seoul, Jae felt like having a make-over. Something like ‘new Jae, new look’. He thought he could just wander into the next barber shop, ask them to bleach his hair, pay and leave. What he hadn’t anticipated: most barber shops that he could afford weren’t fluent in English. Or at least understood the language.

Thus, Jae ran from one to another until he got to a freshly opened beauty salon that had price lists in English and Jae felt like crying in joy. That’s how Jae met Park Jimin a.k.a. Jamie, back then hairdresser in training, now stylist of the stars (Jae gets a really good 70% discount which is still too much for a simple haircut). It’s a little bit nostalgic thinking back to that first haircut where Jae first went to get his hair blonde with a fancy sidecut.

It feels a little bit like coming home when he sits down in the chair and Jamie throws the cape around, raking through his wet hair to brush it out of his face.

“Your hair got so long,” Jamie offhandedly comments as she brushes it off his forehead, “what happened to you?”

Jae leans his head back and closes his eyes, loving the ministrations Jamie’s finger do. He has always been a sucker for the small and soft touches on his body, especially lying down in the grass or bed, and warm, sturdy fingers caressing him as if he’s made out of porcelain.

“Had a few stressful weeks,” he eventually mutters when Jamie's fingers left him to get the scissors.

Her tugging is never too harsh and still she cuts it precisely, her eyes fixated on his strands. Jae takes his eyes to linger on her arms, noticing new beautiful images drawn on them.

“New tattoos?”

“Yes, but don’t get off topic.” Somehow, Jamie always knows. He doesn’t know how, but she knows. As if her gaze is born to look through Jae’s bullshit and cut right to the chase. “Talk about what’s going on with Brian.”

He nearly laughs. He really would laugh if Jamie weren’t holding a pair of scissors in her hand right next to his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He hears the annoying huff at the same time she tugs hard at his strands. “Don’t even try to hide it. Your flat reeks of smoke and perfume that neither you nor Wonpil use.”

“How do you know what Wonpil’s perfume smells like?”

Jae feels the roll of her eyes behind him, perfectly paired with her ‘duh’ face that she most probably is wearing now. “I was here often enough to know what you both smell like. And Wonpil’s perfume is rather strong, it lingers in the air for days.”

“And how would you know—”

“I’m not an idiot and I know you, Jae. It’s always Brian.”

That hits him hard. Somehow. He should have seen it coming, really, because Jamie’s right.

It’s always Brian. In all the years Jae knows Brian, it’s always him. Doesn’t matter what we are talking about here; if Jae is happy, sad, mad, angry or whatever— it’s always connected to Brian.

“So, why does your flat smell like Brian lives here?” Jamie sounds too happy to talk about it. Probably because she knows how much Jae hates to talk about it.

“He’s my bodyguard for the night as long as Wonpil’s gone,” Jae admits sourly. His high spirits obviously dampens while Jamie’s smile grows smug as always.

“Okay, Whitney, why do you even need a bodyguard? Someone’s finally out there trying to kill you?”

“Finally?” He scoffs scandalized and makes Jamie chuckling. “Aren’t people always out there to get me? I’m a mobster, duh!”

The scissors clank against the table when Jamie sets them down, hands back in his hair to check the length everywhere. It’s silent around them, comforting, and yet Jae is dreading the moment Jamie says something because this talk could be continued in two different ways (and he really doesn’t want to talk about either possibility).

“People aren’t always out there to get you.”

There it is.

It’s exactly what Jae doesn’t want to talk about. This sentence implies too much, and Jae really doesn’t want to unpack all of that. It would mean for him to get deep down into his feelings, to ditch the shallow and dive into the deep end, right to the beginning of that time when people started to chase him, to get him, to break him.

His hair is being parted, dissected, a brush painting his red hair in white, the bleach slightly burning on his skin. It’s somewhat soothing, the smell comforting; it reminds him of Jamie, of a world where they could have been normal people that enjoy their youth.

Instead Jae is here, his skin covered in red that will never wash off again, staining Jamie’s innocent hands with his sins.

“You have me.”

His hands grip the armrest hard, his knuckles turning white in his try to not make a face, to not react or move a muscle. He can’t show Jamie how this simple sentence affects him on so many different levels; being surprised at her answer, being relived, joy and happiness but still deeply scared, sad and depressed.

His feelings squirm around his chest like many little ants crawling around his body, like butterflies beating their wings. It feels tight with no space to breathe; Jae feels dizzy over the white noise in his ears.

“People are going to hate me.”

Jamie stills at Jae’s whisper, silence like a crushing force on his lungs.

“They’re going to hate me sooner or later.”

“Jae—”

“Sorry, sorry.” He rubs his hands over his eyes and deeply inhales the bleach to get his mind straight, falling back into his silence.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Jamie eventually says hesitantly, however her voice growing firmer with every word, “but you can count on me. I will never hate you.”

And just like that they don’t need any more words. Sometimes, things are better off being unsaid, sometimes things are being said without being worded. They have already told each other what they had to. Jae drifts off with a newfound peace in his mind while Jamie continues to work in silent.

It’s strange to drift off like that, with her fingers in his hair, as if his brain recalls a memory of other fingers going through his hair, pushing them away from his forehead and ears. Words being whispered, trivial and meaningless things that he can’t grasp, a hot breath against his neck, fluttering kisses, the soft sound of a guitar in the background, light reflections in different colors obscuring his view. A deep chuckle, a throaty moan, a hoarse whisper. Jae aches, that forever lingering pain in his heart so strong then, a longing so melancholily deeply engraved into his heart.

When he opens his eyes, warm water washing over his head, Jae knows it’s time. It’s time to wake up and return to his status quo. It’s time to grow up, it’s time to grow into the person he’s supposed to be.

“Hey, Jamie?”

Jamie is already stuffing her things back into her back when she turns towards Jae with a small hum, and Jae smiles wickedly at her.

“Do you still have that wash-out hair color?”

~~~

It takes him too long to hang his clothes up into his closet, only to open it again and search for something to wear. He doesn’t care, though. Jae doesn’t care at all about that now.

His flat is cleaned up, not a lint out of place. His floor is shining, no trace of lingering blood left. It was a wise decision to call a professional clean-up service while Jamie was busy with his hair.

Jae walks into his big closet, a whole room just for his clothes, accessories and jewelry, neatly arranged instead of the usual chaos, and a dress up table on the other side. He strides over to the table, the robe hanging off his shoulders and exposing the white skin of his neck and chest, the hickey from Brian long gone.

He pushes his hair up with a hairband and begins to dab at his eyes with powder, a simple nude tone to set accents, the khôl making his eyes looking bigger than before. He finishes his make up with a little bit of highlighter and a blush colored lipstick before he takes the hairband out and turns towards his clothes.

It doesn’t take him much time to decide, the denim blouse catching his eyes immediately and in combination with the red pants and black dress shoes, that’s a perfect match. He puts it on, tucks in the front of the blouse and lets the rest hang out, then finishes off the look with a blue pearl necklace.

At last, he ruffles through his hair, smirking at his new look in satisfaction. The wash-off blue hair color looks amazing, just like back then when he had been promoted as Sungjin’s right hand.

Now he is ready. Park Jaehyung is back.

~~~

The streets are full as the people are hurrying everywhere, the clock striking midday as Seoul blooms and thrives. The sun is rather hot on that day, burning down on backs and bringing out the sweat, people wandering around in light blouses, shirts and short pants.

Some people though dress professional, just like that man buying gimbab from the street vendor, clad in a blue shirt with a light suit, no tie and the first few buttons lose. The gun is dangling from his belt as does his badge, shining in the light.

He looks young, a little bit dorky, handsome though. His face is open with high cheekbones and his eyes drooping. He walks with confidence, his style not a usual Korean.

He is walking down the street right back towards workplace when suddenly someone walks next to him with his own portion of gimbap in his hand. Their gazes meet and the man snorts, taking a bite out of his lunch.

“I was wondering about when you appear.”

Straight to the point, someone who takes no bullshit. Jae likes his men just like that.

“My reputation precedes me, he?”

Jae can feel it, the thrill of being back in the game. His blood is thrumming through his vein and his heart jumps in excitement. This is going to be easy; he just knows it.

“Not necessarily,” the police officer says before he takes another bite of his food. “My colleagues warned me from the many mobsters that will knock on my door as soon as I took up my post.”

“And, did they?”

The office throws him a look. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“That I am,” Jae laughs and proceeds to beam at the officer. He starts to say something again just as the officer beats him to it,

“Save it. I tell you the same I told Kim Seokjin, Byun Baekhyun, Park Jinyoung and whoever else paid me a visit: I’m not interested in your money, in your drugs or your business. Don’t do something illegal and I won’t give you any trouble.”

“Whew,” Jae whistles, “how can I compete against _the_ Kim Seokjin? Aren’t you scared they’ll kill you or something like that?”

“What, are you worried about me? Want to offer me protection?” The officer snorts, his grin exasperated when he notices Jae wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Go back to Park Sungjin and tell him to stick his money elsewhere. Otherwise, I don’t think you can offer me anything that I’d be interested in, Park Jaehyung-ssi.”

Just because Jae isn’t from Bangtan or Exo or whoever else is around here doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have something up his sleeve. Guys, please, Jae prides himself in being a master of reading the human being. Sometimes people want money. Sometimes people want protection. Power. Anything that could be granted by all those high-class mafia gangs lurking around Seoul.

But Jae knows better. Jae already knows that police officer Nam Yoondo doesn’t care about money or power or protection. He probably read the record of Nam Yoondo more often than the literature book for his final exam and knows him like the back of the hand.

Police officer, correction, _police inspector Eric Nam_ is fresh in town, coming straight from the big old Uncle Sam to nurse for his sick mother that resides here in Seoul. A man with a bright heart who lived a thrilling life in the underground scene of Boston, hunting the bad, bad guys doing bad, bad things and returned home to his shared flat with a good friend of his.

What Eric Nam needs isn’t money or protection or power, what he needs is rather simple.

“I have something much better for you, sir,” Jae purrs purposefully and halts his movements. Just like he expected, inspector Nam stops too and turns towards him, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.

“And what is it that you have, Park Jaehyung-ssi?”

“Me,” Jae switches to English with a cocky smirk, “I can give you me.” He waves with his hand down to his body, showing himself off.

Eric throws his head into his neck as he barks a short laughter, obviously amused at Jae’s dramatic response. “I’m sorry but I’m not interested.”

“Because I’m a guy?”

“Because you’re a mobster.”

Jae smirks and cocks his head; his hands being burrowed in his pant pockets.

“I wasn’t talking about sex, Eric.” His voice takes on a serious tone and gets even deeper as he strides forward to the policemen. He sees him slowly reaching for his weapon and Jae himself checks for the pressure of his own against his back, hopefully no need to use it. “I was talking about being a friend for you.”

“Yeah, no, same principle,” Eric rejects him outright. His hand goes down when Jae stays in safe distance from him.

“Believe me, you’re going to be glad that I—” At this he takes the final step and pushes a card into Eric’s shirt pocket, “—am giving you this. I know how it is, being new in a city with an overwhelmingly different culture than the one from home. We Americans have to stick together, right?”

Eric stares up to him skeptically, and Jae smiles softly at him in turn, taking a step back for his own safety.

“I’m fine by myself and I surely don’t need any criminal friends. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Nothing more needs to be said between them as he sees the blank face of Eric Nam. The only thing left is to wait. So, Jae resumes walking into another direction, waving at the quiet officer with his last words, “Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me!”

Because Jae is sure, he will get this call. After all, Jae has home advantage.

Ha, take that, Kim Namjoon!

~~~

What are life’s little enjoyments? What are the things that make you feel a bit happier than before? Is it the fresh air filling your lungs when you visit the world outside of the big city? Is it the blinding view of things that humankind should be reverent about? Is it the deafening sound of music like an angel’s choir?

For Jae, it’s in the simple things of life. It’s in strolling through the streets and buying food from small vendors; it’s in strumming his instruments to enjoy the quiet sounds of an unplugged electric guitar; it’s in riding the subway to look at the normal wonders outside his life instead of taking his car to stay hidden from the public eye.

When time allows it, Jae finds himself taking the subway or the bus again, watching the streets melting into one scenery. Seoul can never compare to the scenery of his home. Nothing will ever reach the high standards of his hometown, but, and that Jae will never admit, Seoul is a city he will never look his fill. It’s a beauty in a different light, at day so alive and thriving, at night exposing his true colors.

Here he sits on the subway again, his gaze directed outside of the window to watch the darkness of the tunnel. He is glad to be sitting in a full subway, his bodyguards squeezing him in left and right. His hand plays with his phone by force of habit and music is blasting through his earphones.

The small vibration of his phone alerts him to a new message, a message that makes him beam at the phone.

**_Bang Chan_ ** _  
Do u know a Seo Johnny?  
He’s calling the fourth time now to schedule an appointment with u  
Do I look like ur fcking PA?_

Jae chuckles when he remembers how he gave Johnny a business card to get the other to piss off. He always has Chan’s cards with him in case a possible customer arises, but using him as his PA?

Perfect.

**_Park Jaehyung_ ** _  
Nah, I told him to  
Get the man an appointment  
U know my schedule  
Do me a favor and check him first, yeah?_

Johnny Suh. Jae didn't find the time to do his own background check for Johnny Suh. Or Seo Johnny. From Chicago, if he wasn't lying. Jae is intrigued by what the man could possibly want from him. Or them.

They have something he wants, and Jae _really_ hopes it has to do something with the boy in their warehouse. Or maybe with the dead delivery boy. Hopefully, Johnny will be able to give him the final piece to solve the puzzles he finds himself being stuck with.

**_Bang Chan_ ** _  
Already did  
Felix said he may know something  
Maybe you should give him a call_

Good old Chan thinking ahead for Jae needs. Chan would be a much better Jae than Jae is, which is somewhat pleasing and at the same time very concerning.

On one side, Chan is able to react accordingly if something happens to Jae since he technically is something like Jae’s personal assistant; on the other side, he is competition which Jae really doesn’t like. He already has enough competition as it stands (and yes, we’re looking here at you, Brian).

There is not much time to break his head over Chan’s messages as his subway reaches its destination, so he shoots Chan a simple message to acknowledge his suggestion, pushing the phone back into his pocket before picking up his speed.

He is walking with the crowds, sticking out like a sore thumb with his height and blue hair.

His bodyguards, clad in smart black suits like all the cliched bodyguards apparently do (Jae first thought it’s a joke when they told him it’s their dress code for work. He then learnt that it’s not something to joke about if he wants to keep living), are surrounding him from two sides and push the other people out of their way. Jae feels like an idol weaving through the public, his manager fighting off fanatic girls and boys, and wow, wouldn’t that be nice to live like that for one day?

His head snaps up when he reaches the towering skyscraper, the end of the tower high up in the air. He squints his eyes in the sun and readies himself to step in, his heartbeat rising into worrying conditions while his chest is too tight to take a breath.

“Wait outside,” he tells his companions before he enters the conglomerate, immediately being hit by the glamour of that reception.

Shining walls freshly cleaned, Jae can see his reflection mirrored in the metallic pillars, his being split into many different images. The reception itself is as shiny as the rest, and a petite and smart dressed woman taps there with quick fingers on her keyboard. Three security cameras alone are filming the reception, probably many more monitoring the rest of the building.

The receptionist looks up before Jae even reaches the desk, his eyes fixed on her stark red lipstick being applied perfectly. They would leave pretty marks on a body, his brain adds helpfully, procuring images of Jae’s lips painted in red, kissing down the lean and pliant body of Br—

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and leans forward towards the woman, smiling charmingly at her. “I’m here to meet the big boss?”

Her eyebrows shoot so high they vanish beneath her bangs. It would be worth to take a picture, but Jae is really already used to it. They all react like this when he waltzes into the room to ask for an immediate meeting with their boss.

What follows is a short discussion where Jae tries to flirt himself through the situation which doesn’t matter at all because as soon as his name reaches said boss, Jae is let in and welcomed with wide open arms.

Well, not here. The woman’s eyebrows are never seen again when she’s told to let Jae up, who then walks by with a wide grin plastered on his face, winking at her.

Here, Jae is being felt and searched thoroughly, going through scanner and metal detectors before he can enter the elevators (Thankfully (unfortunately) he could hide his gun outside in a plant directly at the entrance). The name of the record label is glinting behind him, a shadowing reminder of whose territory he is about to enter.

The elevator doors close behind him and vanished is his cheery expression. It’s time to show the world what Park Jaehyung is made of.

So, he strives through the hallway as if he owns it, people turning his head towards him, throwing him glances and stares while Jae does not once moves a muscle of his face, his eyes droopy and intense, his mouth in a small frown.

He hears the whispers, he hears the wonders and praise, _so beautiful, is he the new idol?_

It doesn’t take long until he reaches the wide doors, staring at the silver and polished metal dividing him from his next prey. He waits for the assistant to move and open him the doors because Jae knows that the person behind it would never do so.

Now is the perfect time to remind himself of what he is doing here and why he is doing it; why it is important to hide his sweating hands and trembling fingers, why it is important to control his breaths and slow down his heart rate.

The doors open slowly as if in slow motion, the light filtering in and blinding Jae for a moment, a beautiful view unfolding in front of him. The skyline of Seoul from a different angle, even more beautiful than the one from Sungjin’s office, even rivaling the one of his own home.

He isn’t here for the view though, he is here for the man sitting in his chair, his piercing eyes directed at his own form. His hands are folded beneath his chin, the glasses on his nose glinting in the light. Jae’s spine goes rigid and he bows slightly, exhaling quietly to get a grip on himself.

His eyes take in everything they can get, nothing really reaching his mind that goes into overdrive. They get stuck with the golden plate on the desk, following the black curves of letters, forming the name of the man in front of him.

“Thank you for having me,” Jae says politely while still bowing, “Choi Seunghyun-ssi.”

Jae waits before he lifts his head, waits agonizing silent seconds, the sweat running down his neck, until Seunghyun finally breaks it with a simple invitation.

“You want a drink, Park Jaehyung-ssi?”

~~~

Jae throws the shot down his throat and marvels at the delicious taste of tequila, even though he really hates tequila.

Maybe he’s had too much of that shitty whiskey before but Jae’s in a really good mood. Today went as planned, especially his talk with Eric Nam.

(And maybe here he is a bit too over-confident, but Jae doesn’t worry too much about it.)

The only thing left to do is waiting for a visit from Jackson who maybe, probably, perhaps will be here tonight. If he wants to.

So, Jae waits at the bar for hours and after a not so long time decides to screw it and drink anything he can get.

The music is shitty, the drinks are shitty, the people are shitty, and Jae really hates the décor. Even that cute little shitty plant over there. Who even puts a plant like that in a bar? What even is that plant? He is not allergic to it, that much is obvious, otherwise he would be sneezing his lungs out.

Bottom of the line: This place is shitty.

Why did he even agree to come here? Sungjin could do him seven ways to Sunday and he wouldn’t even care, but noooooo, Jae has to do it here. Right here. The shittiest place of all. Where he’s stuck with too many people at the same bar, so the bartender isn’t only tending to him which is bad since Jae really wants all attention on him. He needs those drink to survive this. But no, all he gets is a still too good cosmopolitan that he will never admit tastes good, and the petty excuse of a cocktail umbrella already found its way behind his hair.

His head bobs with the music, his feet tapping and his fingers following the rhythm, and maybe the music isn’t shitty, but still. Principles you see.

There is only one place in this city that gets this much of a rise out of him. Only one place. And that is Brian’s most beloved casino, the YoungK.

Honestly, what a name even is this? YoungK? Couldn’t he make it any more obvious that he named it after himself?

They get it, Brian is full of himself and really proud of his empire of casinos and arcades and needs to rub it into everyone’s face that he made it to the top. He is the king of high-class entertainment in Seoul (well, the title officially goes to Sungjin since he is the head of their mob, but technicalities. Otherwise, Jae wouldn’t be the most charming guy in Seoul. Title self-proclaimed, of course).

Everything in here screams Brian, from the fancy tables to the fancy chandeliers, as if he designed it specifically to mock Jae. Brian knows Jae likes glamour, likes the look of rich and posh, so he just took that away from him. _What a fucker._

Jae sighs deeply when the clock strikes eleven without a trace of Jackson, who is probably still moping about the story of Youngjae ditching him with a two-hundred-dollar restaurant bill years ago. As if that guy isn’t wallowing in money.

Jae should stop waiting and return back home to get a full night of sleep, but he just doesn’t want to. The drinks are for free and get better with every sip, and the bartender promised him the taste of that sherry liquor that Jae is eyeing for hours now. In for a penny, in for a pound they say.

Maybe Brian’s place isn’t so shitty anymore.

Especially not when a nice, warm and sturdy body presses into his back, one hand cradles his arm, the other reaches out to catch the bartender’s attention. Jae starts to grin but that is before he gets a whiff of smoke and vanilla and his face falls because there is only one person who smells like that.

Oh, how the tables have turned. That place just became even shittier than before and all it took had been its owner’s appearance.

Jae’s flight instinct kicks in and he tries to stumble out of his chair, emphasize on _he tries_ , but Brian’s hand has him already in a tight grip and holds him down in place. When the tumbler of whiskey is neatly placed in his hand, Brian turns to Jae with a grin that Jae thought about too often on the last seventy pages.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Brian chuckles and moves his hand to touch Jae’s hair, pinching a few strands between his fingers. “Especially with this new look. Or should I better say old?”

Jae swats his hand away and takes a big gulp from his martini (when did his cosmo turn into a martini?) and slams it down onto the table. “Don’t get too excited, it’s wash-out color.”

“Does it mean that blond Jae is making a comeback?”

Jae sneers. “What if?”

Brian beams and it sets Jae’s cheeks – ehm – _rage_ aflame. “I always liked blond Jae.”

Nope, he is not red in the face. And if so, it’s from the alcohol. Really. Sure. One hundred percent so. Maybe he should order absinth for his next drink.

Brian really doesn’t help by leaning down to breathe against his ear. Or whisper into it. “Honestly, I prefer your black hair the most.”

His heart is _not_ beating harder and Brian _doesn’t_ affect him at all. It’s the alcohol speaking. Jae isn’t what you would put next to the definition of sober in a dictionary, he is slightly intoxicated if so. Not shit-faced drunk. He has all the control he needs to push Brian’s face out of his personal space and ignores the delightful laughter coming out of him.

And _no,_ Jae doesn’t hide a small smile behind his hand.

“Bummer you won’t see me in black so soon.”

The ice in Brian’s whiskey clinks against the glass when Brian swerves it around, his mouth’s corners tucked upright in a confident smile. It’s somewhat magical how their eyes always meet and never want to separate, au contraire, they are gravitating towards each other like strong magnets.

Mission abort. Mission abort!

Jae eventually breaks the eye contact and exhales deeply through his nose. The smile still lingers on his lips and he doesn’t know how to stop it. Instead, he takes his new glass filled with sherry and sips on it, the sweet taste with a spicy note melting on his tongue, intoxicating his senses and burning in his throat.

It’s the silence that gets to him because Jae and Brian together are not silent. They are bickering in every sense of the word, from teasing to downright insulting the other, but that is just how Jae and Brian work. They don’t do silences.

The words lie heavy on Jae’s tongue but they all sound too friendly and nice, some even edge on being cheesy and cringey. Maybe he should wait for Brian to pick up the conversation. His brain is too far gone now.

He sees Brian settling down on the stool next to him in his periphery and feels Brian’s eyes still fixed on his face. It makes him nervous and his hands begin to feel clammy against his glass. He rolls his drink between his hands, swallowing a few times. The tension grows thicker and Jae feels uncomfortable and rooted in his place. He really wants to flee from the scene and away from Brian’s stare.

“You are so beautiful.”

Jae is choking on his sip when Brian suddenly breathes this nearly inaudible sentence, yet Jae heard it piercingly clear and striking.

He coughs a few times and Brian pats him helpfully on the back, that gleeful laugh bubbling from his throat and infecting Jae who starts to smile while dying due to lack of air.

“What the hell was that?” Brian asks in amusement when Jae calmed down and takes another sip to soothe his throat, the smile still on both of their faces.

Jae clicks his tongue in answer and flicks against Brian’s fancy earring. He watches the golden chain dangling back and forth, the light beautifully reflected by the metal. “Nice earrings.”

Brian’s eyes roll towards the edge and try to look at the earring; Brian himself only shrugs and hums. “It’s a nice present from one of the players here.”

“Oooh,” Jae chuckles, “does someone have an admirer, eh?”

His grin only widens when Brian ducks his head down and blushes lightly, his smile taking on an embarrassed note. “It’s not like that.”

“How is it then?”

Brian’s fingers find their way up to his earring and start to play with the chain, rolling it between them. “He just expressed his satisfaction of our customer service here.”

Oh. So, it _is_ exactly like that. Even though he anticipated this, this being Brian flirting and pursuing people that aren’t Jae, his stomach drops, and a dreadful feeling rises in his throat. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Brian’s eyes snap directly at it, following the movement with a certain darkness in them.

“So, you fucked him?”

Maybe Brian flinches at Jae’s choice of words, maybe he flinches at the deep tone his voice takes on; Jae doesn’t know and really doesn’t care. (He does, though.) It is just satisfying to see the other’s lips forming an awkward smile in his haste to explain things.

“Well, yes, he was interested and I’m just a man, you see?” Brian’s hands do funny things, swishing through the air. Or he’s having a stroke, who knows. “I have urges and need to let it out and I don’t have someone like Wonpil—”

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” Jae eventually stops Brian’s rambling before he says things that don’t need to be spoken. It’s awkward enough as it is. “You are a highly coveted bachelor, so why should you refuse the offer of a good night?” And just to prove his point, Jae lifts his glass and nudges it towards him in a silent cheer.

“He doesn’t mean anything,” Brian says slowly with his eyebrows deep down and shoulders tense. “They all don’t mean anything to me, they’re not—”

“Hey, you don’t need to justify your actions. I don’t care.”

Jae pointedly ignores how Brian’s face fell at his words and turns his head stubbornly straight forward, taking a swig out of his beer (and maybe he should start to pay more attention to the drinks in his hands. Ah, right, he downed the sherry when he’s congratulated Brian for his laid). He ignores his own feelings that are a mix of everything, and he doesn’t even know where to start to sort them out. So, he just doesn’t do it, full stop.

And they’re back to silences. This time though, Jae is glad for it. Their conversation, at first being pleasant and maybe even enjoyable, poses a danger for all the things Jae doesn’t want to face, things that are buried deep down in his mind and heart.

Just rely on Brian to break the silence again.

“You want to play?”

“I don’t have money with me.” Maybe if he is turning down all of Brian’s new conversations and looks like he is moping, Brian will leave him alone. Jae feels like being alone. It’s Jae-wants-to-be-alone o’clock. Oh, how much he misses his wide windows, the rain pouring and the guitar in his hands.

“You don’t need money, I’ll pay.”

Jae groans. “Why should I? You’re playing dirty and I have no chance against you anyway.”

“I’ll play honest, I promise! No tricks, no cheats, just a good old game of—”

“Blackjack. I’m only playing blackjack against you.”

The smile that Brian gives him makes up for everything wrong in the world. Really, even the bad feelings Jae just felt are suddenly gone. All because of that goddamn smile.

~~~

Only one other guy sits with him, Brian and the dealer at the table and their game is heated. So far, Jae lost every round against one of those two while Brian won the majority of the matches. That is just the kind of guy Brian is, always lucky with cards and dices and coins, and his smile is never wavering on his face.

Jae doesn’t care about the money he lost. It hasn’t been his in the first place and Brian essentially wins back his own cash.

The other guy at the table, puffing at his cigarette and watching the dealer shuffling the cards, has a notable amount of chips in front of him, pushing out more and more with every round. Jae laughs at him internally because he can predict how the game will end: with Brian as the big winner. Even though he did promise Jae not to cheat, he didn't promise that the dealer won’t cheat. Jae isn’t naïve enough to believe such words (and the fact that he knows Brian for years now – he knows how the younger plays and which words he can trust) (that is if there even are words to trust).

His eyes never leave the hands of the dealer as he awaits the great party trick. He rubs his fingers over his plush lips, well aware that Brian is watching them very closely. He lets his fingers graze the wetness of his mouth to moisturize them, making them even more irresistible than before.

The dealer gives out the cards to every player, each of them taking them carefully into their hands. Jae doesn’t look at them directly, watches the reactions of his fellow players. Both have a good poker face, no twitch nor emotion, just a blank canvas colored in concentration. His own eyes trail down to his cards then, his mind counting the numbers. He looks up again and sees Brian’s gaze focused on his before they dart to the other player, and Jae’s nose gets hit with the smell of a fresh burnt cigarette.

“Hit me a card,” Brian breaks the silence and gets another card, the other player following.

It is already Jae’s turn when he is still thinking, he has a queen and—

A loud bang suddenly echoes from afar that Brian and the dealer aren’t even acknowledging, so Jae and the player turn back to their game.

It is only now that he really takes in the player even though he has vibrant blue hair and looks more like a boy than a man, especially with those pouting lips. The cigarette between his lips looks really out of place.

“Can you give me one of your figs?” Jae leans towards the smoking player and smiles charmingly at him as the guy fishes his cigarette pack out with a quiet grunt. Jae takes one out with a short nod as a thanks, puts the stick between his lips and pulls out a lighter to light the cigarette with the cards still in his hands. The taste of tobacco immediately floods his mouth and the inhale burns in his lungs – that’s why he hates smoking so much despite it doing right now.

Jae opens his mouth to tell his next move when suddenly a boy appears next to Brian. He whispers something into his ear that wipes the smile off of Brian’s face instantly and replaces it with a deep frown. In his periphery he sees the player turning towards where the noise came from before, his fingers fiddling with the cards. A small tell, Jae notices.

It is only when the boy by Brian’s side turns around that Jae recognizes him as Felix, and Felix him as Jae. They both look surprised at each other, even though Jae shouldn’t be since Felix primarily works here (where people drink and are careless with what they say).

“Oh, Jae-hyung?” Felix sounds rather amused to meet Jae here and Jae can’t blame him for it.

“What’s up?” he greets him distractedly as Brian rises from his chair and starts to collect his chips.

Felix looks like he wants to say something with that mischievous glint in his eyes, but Brian beats him to it.

“Sorry gentlemen, but I have to leave. Cards open.”

Brian throws his cards open on the table, revealing a neat twenty. The other player, as calm and quiet as before, shows his hand that counts seventeen and turns his head to Jae who technically hasn’t had the chance to get another card. So, he smiles defeatedly and shows his pitiful twelve. Brian’s eyebrows shoot up in a question to which Jae only shrugs and nods towards the chips that the dealer (he, too, had a seventeen) distributes according to the wins.

It doesn’t take long for Brian to collect them all and then to scurry away from the table but still, Jae only needs to walk in long strides to catch up with the other’s fast pace.

“He was snooping around in your office and digging through the drawers when we found him,” Felix reports to Brian as he leads him towards the back of the casino. When he sees Jae walking besides them, he looks surprised – again.

Maybe Jae should start to worry about what the others are thinking about him when they all look so surprised to see him. Like, why shouldn’t he go with them? Doesn’t it concern Jae too if someone is causing trouble for their mob?

“Why was he in my office in the first place?” Brian’s voice has that dark lilt to it that it always has if he is annoyed. Or in boss mode. Or very aroused. Why does Jae even know every situation that Brian uses this voice?

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you want to question him—”

“That’s not what I wanted to know,” Brian cuts Felix off and that not in a friendly way, “what happened to the people watching the place?”

“Oh, they were knocked out.”

Brian suddenly stills in his walk. “All of them?”

“Yup,” Felix nods and shows how impressed he is by widening his eyes and smiling lazily, “All of them. He did a thing on them but no one’s dead. Only seriously injured.”

Jae whistles at that and Brian huffs a breath. They resume their walking and reach the door to the back rooms. Here is where the real fun starts.

The back rooms of the casino are no less glamourous than the show-off front. Maybe they are darker and shadier like Brian made use of every cliché he could think of when he planned the place, but they are still what Jae would call posh. The floor is of black marble, the doors are black wood with golden handles. Cheers are erupting from somewhere, but the three of them are walking past it to another door that Felix opens by pushing a few buttons. An elevator is revealed behind it.

It isn’t silent for long in the elevator as Brian glances at Jae and smiles again.

(On a side-note: How much can that guy smile? And how can he not have any creases from it? Jae needs answers. Right now!)

“How is it possible to have such a bad hand even with cheating?”

Jae has to turn his head away from Brian as he fails to suppress his smile, his lip’s corner going up as he is called out. He really thought he was sneaky enough.

“But I must say,” Brian continues, “I’m impressed. I wouldn’t have suspected anything if it weren't for the cigarette. Really, didn’t you have any better idea to swap cards? Asking for a cigarette despite not smoking at all…”

“Maybe I am now?” Jae challenges. They both just look at each other for a few seconds before they snort in sync, both fully aware that Jae becoming a smoker is even more unlikely than Sungjin hugging Wonpil out of goodwill.

“No, really, why did you even try that round? Your hand must have been shit if you didn’t swap that two out.”

The elevator pings as they arrive at the deepest floor, and Felix leads them down the dark corridors.

It only needs one look to know that here is where the bad things are happening. The glamour is strongly reduced, and the only thing left is the color on the walls and floor. The lamps aren’t bright enough to make the corridor any less dark.

Jae has been here before, sometimes to make deals, sometimes to identify people, sometimes to let Wonpil take care of people’s last breath. It is never a good feeling going down here. It always feels like something is breathing down his neck. A ghost that is clinging to his back, a permanent reminder of his sins.

He needs to focus back on the conversation and follow Felix down the hallway.

“Maybe I have an ace up my sleeve?” Jae puts up his hands and fiddles around which must look rather dumb, if he thinks about it. He should stop do that.

At least it makes Brian laugh. “Another one? Two cheats in one round is too reckless. The best tricks are the simplest one. Just stick with counting the cards and your most-trusted dealer.”

Eventually they stop in front of the last door that Jae recognizes as their interrogation room. Or torture chamber. Call it what you want, it isn’t a nice place to be in when Brian doesn’t like you. Or being caught digging through Brian’s things. Jae hopes he will never find himself in here.

“Are you sure you want to be here right now?”

It hits something deep in Jae that Brian doesn’t sound mocking or condescending, just worried about Jae. His face is blank, but Jae knows better, knows how to see the worried lines around his eyes. The slight downturn of his lips. Yet, Jae takes a deep breath as he watches Brian and Felix’s hesitant faces and shakes his head.

“I’m coming with you. It’s nothing that I’m not used to.”

Felix looks at him and seems to contemplate something, but then just shakes his head and pushes the handle down.

Jae gets a déjà-vu when the doors open and reveal a young boy hunched over in his chair. A throwback to the boy back in the warehouse, a throwback to every man sitting in the chair right there. At least the boy isn’t hurt anywhere, only constrained against the chair by black rope.

The room is dark with its black wall, and the floor is shining in a deep, rich red, like a sea of blood. Just like the room in the warehouse, tables are lined up against the wall with many different weapons displayed. They are freshly polished and reflect the light of that one lamp in the room, a light bulb just above the captive’s head.

Jae swallows loudly as Felix stalks over to the boy and grabs his hair to make him look up. It’s the same movement, the same situation, the same fiery gaze.

His sharp inhale echoes loudly in the silent room, something Jae couldn’t even hear above the white noise in his head. His ears are ringing hard and he can’t tear his gaze away from the boy with the split lip and fleshing teeth. Jae’s eyes wander down to inspect his form for other wounds, the only thing he finds are hands soaked in blood. It’s not his blood, he knows, his stomach squirming at the thought that there is probably even more red on his black gear.

“Do you recognize him?”

Jae flinches hard when Brian addresses him directly and a wave of embarrassment shoots down his spine. He clears his throat to cover the loss of his voice, checks out the boy again and ignores the increasing rate of his heartbeat.

“No. Haven’t seen him before.”

The clock ticks loudly on the wall, the probably the cruelest torture device in the room; hearing the clock ticking down the seconds until you meet your surmise, and Jae wishes that they could finally get over the awkward moments of Felix and Brian coddling him.

When nothing happens for a minute, Brian eventually steps forward towards the captive and waves for Felix to pull his hair harder. The way Brian is looking down at him with that dark gaze, Jae’s blood doesn’t know where it should go. To the cheeks and his groin to fill that embarrassing feeling of arousal or to the ears to make them ring even more?

“It was really brave of you to break into my office. And really impressive how you took out my men.” Brian leans even further down and hovers over the boy. “It doesn’t change a thing, though, I’m still mad. Do you know what happens when I’m mad?”

They boy’s eyes are wide, and his limbs are trembling slightly. His mouth is shaping forms, no words slipping out. Jae curls his fingers to fists and wonders why the boy is so scared right now when he had just taken out so many of Brian’s men.

Especially so when Felix hands Brian a knife over that the other examines calmly right in front of the boy’s eyes, just before Brian’s eyes snap to him – the horror on the boy’s face when it dawns on him what is about to happen – and the knife slams down right into his hand. It’s a sound of agony that escapes the boy’s throat before he grits his teeth and fletches them to Brian, his head red and eyes wide in pain.

“That’s nothing against what’s going to happen if you won’t talk,” Brian threatens him in a whisper. Then, he leans back again and turns around to Jae, the dark and dangerous side of Brian suddenly vanished. “You can leave, if you want.”

He could, couldn’t he? He could leave now and never see this boy again. He could leave and save himself from more nightmare material. He could do all of that.

So, Jae turns around and walks away, yet he doesn’t take the route to the door but to the only other chair in the room. He grabs the chair and positions it opposite of the boy, a small distance between them though. He sits down on the chair, crosses his legs and intertwines his hands on his knee. His head is high and his face challenging when he looks back to Brian.

He likes that dumbfounded expression on him. It suits Brian more than that stupid grin he always wears. Felix on the other hand looks really dumb with that expression (he’s still cute though).

“Are you sure? Things will get messier—”

“Please, I’ve seen you doing worse things. Just ignore me and continue.”

And when they finally continue their sick spiel of torture, Jae is glad that their glances to him vanish over the passing of time so that he can process the scene in front of him in peace.

~~~

It’s the same with this boy. It doesn’t matter how many times Felix punches him in the face, it doesn’t matter how many times Brian pushes the knife into his skin, the broken bones and rips, the blood spilling from open wounds and out of his mouth, the boy doesn’t scream, he doesn’t say a word. They got nothing out of him. They are doing it for quite some time now, Felix catching his breath and Brian ruffling through his hair, both of their suit jackets lying discarded on the floor and their sleeves rolled up.

Jae is still sitting on the chair, leaning on his right arm that rests on the armchair, hiding the deep turn of his mouth.

To an outsider, Jae looks like the calmness in person. Cold and without emotion, his eyes never leaving the worsening figure of the boy. But everyone who knows Jae can see through the hard façade where hidden behind are the glazed-over eyes and the gray shade of his already pale skin. Jae needs to hide it fast before Brian or Felix notice anything.

The situation is disturbed by a shrill ringtone where then Felix hurries over to his jacket to fetch the phone. He excuses himself hastily and leaves the room, cold air seeping into the chamber in the short time that the door is open. Brian takes this opportunity for a short break and walks over to Jae who crunches his nose up in disgust at the streaks of blood on Brian’s form.

“I can’t believe that you’re doing this to yourself.”

“What? It’s my new hobby, didn’t you know?” Jae scoffs and cheers for himself when Brian jumps at his response. He may sound harsh, but Jae doesn’t care. Not when he feels so restless and his racing heart doesn’t calm down. At this point, he is going to have a heart attack very soon.

“Just because Sungjin said you have to do this, doesn’t mean—”

“Don’t patronize me!” Jae barks angrily, “He’s right, you know? This is the life I chose. I have responsibilities, there are things I have to do. There’s no half-way in and pretend that we’re not cruel mobster. This, all of this, this is what I chose to do, and I have to learn to live with the consequences now.”

When he sees Brian’s face falling, Jae wishes his smile back. It doesn’t matter how much it annoys him, how much Jae hates (loves) this smile, how much he is ranting about it; it is so much better than this expression. That downturn of his lips and those dark eyes filled to the brim with guilt.

Brian, no, _Younghyun_ looks like that boy Jae had met back in college again, but instead of that funny and charming young guy playing the guitar on the stage he sees that boy who stood directly behind Park Sungjin offering his hand to a beaten down Jae pleading on his knee for a new life.

“Don’t look at me like that, Younghyun.”

It’s only when Younghyun’s breath hitches that Jae realizes what name just escaped his mouth. He snaps his head back to the boy and crosses his arms over his chest in hopes that Brian catches the cue to leave him alone. He hears him shuffling, probably trying to catch Jae’s gaze, but he is just staring at the hunched over figure, determined not to talk to him anymore.

“Jaehyung…” Brian tries quietly, and Jae should give him an A for effort, should give him a star for how he can read the atmosphere. “I’m going to search for some water.”

He hears Brian’s steps again, his heart beating loudly behind his ribs, his mind counting the seconds he needs. His hands feel clammy and sweat builds on his neck, running down on his temple, too. He wets his lips and gulps in nervousness until the door opens and closes softly again.

Because then Jae jumps out of his chair and stalks over to the boy with harsh steps. The boy’s head shoots up and his face distorts in panic when Jae whips out his weapon, pushing the barrel beneath his jaw, hard.

“Now you gotta listen carefully, okay?” The boy is trembling, the tension thick and spiking. Jae is surprised by how calm he himself is. As if his body functions on autopilot. “If you only make a sound, doesn’t matter if it’s a squeak or a scream, I swear to god, you will never see Beomgyu again. That’s a promise, not a threat, okay?” The boy crushes his lips together and nods as far as Jae’s weapon allows it. “Good, good. And now, tell me, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I have a message for you.”

Jae’s heart falls, it falls deep down and shatters on the ground. His face luckily doesn’t betray him.

“What does he want again? Wasn’t it enough that he appeared with a bloody corpse in my house?”

The boy’s eyes are intense. What is it with young guys and their hard glares? Is there some kind of crash course that no one ever cared to tell Jae about?

“Kim Namjoon just wants to know how things are going since he visited you.”

“A mail would have sufficed,” Jae scoffs.

“This is a warning, Park Jaehyung.”

The boy hisses in pain when Jae pulls his hair tighter and pushed the weapon harder against his jaw. “Watch your mouth!”

“He said you should stop looking for the murderer on the streets. He isn’t there.”

What?

“And he congratulates you on your win of police inspector Eric Nam.”

That Kim Namjoon. Jae really starts to hate him wholeheartedly. Every fiber of his being bristles at the thought of Kim Namjoon smiling sleazy while he sits comfortably on his throne whereas Jae has to live through nightmares without end. Is this some sick way to have fun for him? Is he so stuck on making Jae’s live even harder than it already is?

“Tell him to stop watching me,” Jae grits out between his teeth. He finally lets go of the boy's hair, drawing back his weapon. The boy falls over and catches his breath with his head between his knees. “And no more boys in our territory. Sungjin would declare war if he knew that Bangtan’s rats are walking in and out of here.”

The boy barks a laughter and winces in pain as he leans back, his hands pressing against his ribs. “You would lose in a blink of an eye. You’re nothing against Bangtan.”

“I liked you better when you were trembling in fear, Kai.”

The boy even has the nerve to smirk at Jae. It stirs something dark within Jae, something that annoys the hell out of him. That boy doesn’t take him seriously, sees through Jae’s tough mask to see a man being afraid. This shouldn’t be a mask anymore; Jae intends to harden up. It’s time. It’s time to rise and shine and show the world what Jae is made of.

So, he shakes his sleeve once, twice, until a card comes out, and procures a pen out of his suit pocket. He writes something quick on that card, admiring his artwork in form of numbers, a date in the middle of September, right above the ace of spades. He leans down to be on eyelevel with Kai, the card finding its way into Kai’s pocket, his hand latching onto the knife still stuck in Kai’s leg.

“I think you haven’t listened to me, Kai,” Jae whispers against his ear, “so strain your ears, okay?” And suddenly, Jae twists the knife in Kai’s leg und presses his free hand against the boy’s mouth. “This is _me_ threatening _you_. If you even think about telling anyone a word about this conversation except for Kim Namjoon-ssi—” He twists harder and feels the jaw tightening harder against his hand. “—You’re going to find Beomgyu at the ground of the Hudson river, right next to your own corpse, alright?” When Kai doesn’t move to show he understands, Jae pulls the knife out just to stab him right in the shoulder. “And don’t you dare to ever underestimate me again, Kai. I can be your worst nightmare and you’re going to wish to run back to your daddy in Hawaii.”

Just as Jae’s about to pull his hand away from Kai’s mouth, many things happen at the same time.

At first, he is pulling his hand away which gives Kai the opportunity to open his mouth and bite into his hand. Jae, surprised at the teeth crushing his fingers, cries out in pain and wills his free hand to clasp against the boy’s jaw to get his mouth off of him. His hand slips down from his jaw and, in a split-second decision, Jae starts to press against the boy’s larynx.

All while this happens, the door behind him opens and Felix strolls in with a cup of coffee in hand, Brian with two cups in tow.

They’re still too late to the scene and can only stare dumbly at the boy’s inanimate form folding in half and Jae shaking his bloodied hand to get rid of the pain. His denim jacket is stained with blood, at least his red pants hide most of it.

Jae strolls calmly over to Felix and Brian, their eyes never leaving his form, and takes one cup from Brian to take a sip.

“What the hell happened?” Felix breathes and walks over to Kai’s unmoving body.

“He’s only out cold,” Jae says offhandedly and tries to puff his hair out of his face. He catches himself luckily since his hand is covered in deep red blood. “You can throw him out on the street. He’s just a normal kid that got paid to break into the casino and to search for money. Maybe someone should have told him that the office is the wrong place to search in.” Jae even throws in a chuckle to lighten the mood.

“Hyung, what did you do? That’s- I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Bri Bri.” Brian must know something is odd when Jae smiles and even pats his cheek as if he’s a child. “I’m tired so I’m leaving first.”

Without a further word, Jae leaves the casino and lets the night behind him.

~~~

It hasn’t been his first time doing something like that. Jae had already put a knife into a body, made people whimper and cry in pain. He just never enjoyed it much and gave up after a few tries. This was years ago. This was before Wonpil had taken pity on him and offered to do it instead.

Thus, it isn’t too surprising when Jae sits in his car back to his apartment and feels quite… cold. Apathetic. He sees the blood on his hands and his mind goes like ‘ _Yup, this is blood on my hands_ ’. Nothing more. No panic, no regrets, no guilt. Just cold emptiness.

And isn’t this scary enough?

When he is back in his elevator, rising up into the high sky, he thinks back to Brian.

The evening wasn’t been completely unpleasant. He kind of enjoyed the banter between them. It was light and easy and maybe they have been on the verge of saying things that don’t have any place in this world anymore, but at the end, things went… well. Even though Jae has now even more things on his plate.

The elevator reaches his floor and opens its doors. It doesn’t even take a second before his stomach is in knots again and his hand is reaching for the weapon tucked into his pants. The light spills from the living room into the hallway, illuminating the short way from one door to another. Jae moves slowly towards it, his hands still and calm while his mind is going on full speed.

Something moves in his living room and Jae stills, hearing for another sound. When nothing else comes, he nudges closer towards the living room, eventually entering and seeing no one. Just the lights on and a suitcase thrown carelessly next to the couch.

That’s when it dawns on Jae who the burglar might be.

So, instead of targeting his weapon against whoever was walking down the stairs now with hurried steps, a smile breaks out on his face until he beams at the other person grinning at him.

It’s a reaction that happens on impulse, Jae later realizes, that he throws the weapon away and nearly crushes into the person he runs into. His hands are already reaching up and cup their cheeks, pulling them in for a crushing kiss.

Their kiss is desperate and messy and more teeth than tongue. Jae loves the feeling of that tongue swiping over his lips to ask for entrance and he gladly obeys. The other’s arms are sliding down his sides, grabbing his hips hard to pull him flush into them. Their crotches meet and both groan at the electric sparks riding up their spines in immense pleasure.

“Did you miss me so much?” The person asks in between kisses and Jae groans in annoyance, crushing their cheeks to pucker their lips for sweet little pecks.

“You won’t believe how horny I am; I even dream about sex constantly.”

The best part of being with them is how Jae can talk so openly about everything. About his dreams, about his nightmares, about the feelings he suppresses (that doesn’t happen that much though, but Jae can’t help himself when he looks so cute at him).

“Were you flirting with Younghyun-hyung again?” the other teases him while their lips find his sweet spot beneath his ear.

Jae whimpers when he sucks and licks, and his fingers slide down from the other’s cheeks to their shoulders. “No, it’s Brian who’s flirting. At me.”

“You realize that you tease people when you try to flirt? And that calling him Brian automatically means that you flirt with him?”

Instead of Jae coming up with a witty and sassy comeback, their mouths find each other again and they lick into them, chasing after the sweet taste of pleasure in a heated make-out session.

“Maybe you should fuck Younghyun-hyung to get him out of your system,” they comment offhandedly while their tongue is mapping out the inside of Jae’s mouth. Like, really?

“Can we maybe not talk about Brian when we’re in the middle of foreplay?”

And suddenly that wild and really talented tongue is missing in his mouth and Jae starts to groan and chases after the other while they cock his eyebrow at him. “You call that foreplay?”

“I can feel your dick twitching against my leg, what did you think this would lead to?” Jae huffs and rolls his eyes at him, then tries to lean back in only for the other taking a step back and pushing him playfully away.

“You won’t fuck me before we wash that blood off your hands. And probably from my face, too.” Ah, yes, he’s nearly forgotten about it, even though there is blood in his face. “And while we do so, you should tell me why you’re covered in blood in the first place.”

“I was wondering why you aren’t freaking out, but then I remembered that you’re a hitman. And that you’re the king of being unbothered.” Jae snorts at his own joke and earns a small chuckle from him.

Oh god, maybe Jae really uses jabs at others as a flirting method. He really should start to reflect on every interaction he’s had with Brian. The first few moments he comes up with don’t look too good for him.

The amused chuckle tells him that the other knows what he is thinking. Yet he is showing his sweetest smile for Jae as he walks towards the bathroom, waiting for him to follow.

And before he vanishes behind the door, he sing-songs, “That’s Kim Wonpil for you~!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue enter: Wonpil has finally arrived at the scene. Don't worry, the Jaepil dynamic and how their relationship works will be explained in the next chapter. Which brings me to--
> 
> Next week - Track 4: Why did you make me like this and left me?


	4. Track 4: Why did you make me like this and left me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New week, new chapter! Things are getting dangerous, hope you'll like it!
> 
> Title this time from Day6 - Habits 
> 
> On a side note: [This](https://6.viki.io/image/5e60802011324816927f1b7555137230.jpeg?s=900x600&e=t) photoshooting here is what hugely inspired me writing this story, especially YoungK and Jae since they look like mugshots if you look at them seperated from the others.
> 
> Btw, I'm sorry for typos and things like that. I take some out from time to time, so bear with me, I guess.

Sex with Kim Wonpil is – in Jae’s totally biased opinion – an otherworldly experience. He can’t exactly pinpoint what it is that makes it so mind-blowing and ethereal, but Wonpil is just—

No, he can’t come up with an explanation. Maybe it has something to do with the duality of Wonpil’s unbothered and deep personality.

Exhibit A: Wonpil has a certain calmness to him (he isn’t called king of being unbothered for naught). Even his surprised, excited, shocked or sad expressions are still calm in themselves. He talks to you like you are a kindergartner. He doesn’t get impatient a lot and if so, he is still friendly and doesn’t sweat a thing. It isn't because Wonpil has a cold heart or is dead inside, just opposite, he is rather sweet and warm. Always nice and friendly and takes care of everyone around him.

Just in the way how he scrubs off the blood from Jae’s hands. He does so with purposeful movements and tells Jae everything about the wonderful scenery he had passed by on his travel to Seoul. He even scrubs beneath Jae’s fingernails and checks every nook and cranny for any blood left. On top of all that, Wonpil beams at Jae and not once does his smile waver.

Why should it though? The answer leads us to—

Exhibit B: Wonpil is an assassin and deals with weapons on the side. The guy’s broad knowledge about murder and which weapon is suited best at which situation is downright scary. Jae is feeling rather unsure about this border between innocent admiration and genuine worry about his own safety because if Kim Wonpil wants you dead, you can bet that you’ll be dead in the next few hours.

Wonpil is like a wolf in sheep’s clothes. He smiles like an angel, sweet and calm and never stops even though his hand twists a knife deep into your heart. Washing off blood is like every other fresh-up activity, hiding corpses helps him to find the calmest places to chill, and don’t let Jae start on the amount of money Wonpil gets per job.

Needless to say, it makes Wonpil the best business partner Jae ever had the pleasure to work with. Jae tricks and manipulates until he gets what he wants and Wonpil takes care of the rest. And if the cash flows for special jobs, their sex is even better. Jae still gets instantly hard when he recalls that one time in the jacuzzi. Good times.

Although, Wonpil would be a little bit boring if he was all smiles and dubious business. Thus, comes in—

Exhibit C: Wonpil is a little piece of shit. His unbothered way makes him shameless which can either be good or bad depending on the situation. Good in a sense that he never fails to voice how he wants Jae to fuck him; bad in a sense that he always digs around in Jae’s personal thoughts without a certain sense of consideration.

Like that one time where he tried to blow Jae right next to a corpse (Jae somehow senses a déjà-vu with a certain fox-eyed guy instead), even though Wonpil knows that Jae hates dead people (and who even wants to give blowjobs when they have killed a person three seconds ago?), which then lead to Wonpil prodding about Jae’s insecurities and bad career choices (his hand was still rubbing his dick then, can you believe that guy?).

Being a little shit doesn’t end there. When Wonpil smells something to tease Jae about, he’s doing it. Like ~~his relentless lusting after Younghyun~~ his endless hatred towards Brian. Not once instance exists where they haven’t talked about Brian and back then, Jae has seen Brian like once in a month or so (and hopefully they return to that status quo now that Wonpil’s back).

And what do the exhibits show us? That Wonpil’s a damn good friend, he dares say.

At the beginning, Jae had been wary about Wonpil and couldn’t warm up to the sunshine beaming out of his ass. Wonpil has always been an assassin and somehow stood for everything Jae doesn’t want to be.

Now, Jae knows better. Wonpil fits to him like a missing piece of puzzle. Sure, it had taken them a little bit of time and much work, like getting over the language barrier and Jae being more open minded about Wonpil’s more sociopathic tendencies, but once they did they became quite good friends.

And Jae had really needed friends back then. Wonpil has been there during a time where everything had threatened to fall apart; where Jae was on the verge of crumbling into pieces with no one to pick them up.

The sex is just a small plus part of their friendship. Even at the beginning of their more physical relationship, they both had that silent agreement that it is just what it is: sex.

Well, it has been a quick fuck to get it out of the system first, maybe even the second and third time too, but after the fifth time they just stopped caring and continued without any boundaries.

The very definition of friends with benefits who still enjoy the cuddling sessions afterwards. (Wonpil has been laughing his ass off when he realized how needy and cuddly Jae is, especially after sex. Since then Wonpil makes sure to hug or kiss Jae at least once afterwards and Jae is eternally grateful for that small gesture of affection).

Jae often thinks about how maybe Wonpil could be that one person. That endgame kind of person. How no one else comes after him.

At the same time, he just knows that maybe he isn’t. It’s odd and nothing he can really grasp, like a fleeting feeling that is gone before he can touch it.

Probably all of that contributes to Wonpil being a sex-god in bed. Who knows?

Jae only knows that their night is nice after such a long time being apart.

He thought that if he rinses off his hands that maybe then the guilt will kick in and he finally crumbles apart, but Wonpil has taken good care of him. He was coaxing him out of his mind by small talk, all smile and sugary sweetness and he even made Jae laugh at some stupid joke he had probably stolen from Sungjin or Dowoon.

When the blood had been washed off, Wonpil didn't waste a second before he was all over Jae, his mouth at every part of naked skin he could reach. He was like a whirlwind and Jae found himself being swept off and suddenly fucking deep into Wonpil, his one hand pressing Wonpil down into his pillow and his other supporting his weight on the mattress.

Right now though, they are lying side by side, Wonpil cuddling into his side while Jae plants little kisses along his shoulder and plays with the strands of hair. His hair has been getting longer for a while and falls in small waves over Wonpil’s eyes, a look so breathtakingly beautiful that it twinges Jae’s heartstrings.

Just when Wonpil looks up and meets Jae’s gaze, Jae knows he won’t like that talk that is about to come. He has learnt to read the different gazes on Wonpil’s blank eyes (they’re still so open, so warm and so ever telling even though they betray deceive other person looking at Wonpil. Jae knows better than to label that face as blank because every emotion portrayed in them are meaningful in their own) and he has seen this one expression so many times before since Wonpil prefers the bantering talk that punches you in the gut at the same time.

“What happened?”

It’s a simple question that Jae doesn’t even know how to start to answer. It has happened so much ever since Wonpil has left and Jae isn’t sure what to tell him and what not. It’s really hard.

“Have you killed someone?”

That is the punch in his stomach that Jae hasn’t anticipated. Wonpil asks him innocently, curiously and still, it feels like a death sentence. Jae has learnt it is just Wonpil making sure if everything’s alright with Jae. And him coming home with blood everywhere doesn’t give much room for any other conclusion.

Jae’s arms sneak around Wonpil’s form and press him tighter into him, his nose finding its way into his hair.

“No, I haven’t,” he answers after a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I just… nearly choked someone to death?”

Wonpil nuzzles deeper into his neck and Jae feels the vibration of his voice as Wonpil hums. “But only nearly? What did he do?”

“He broke into Brian’s office and then disrespected me when I threatened him.”

“Then he deserved it.” Wonpil’s voice is deep and sweet that, with the warmth of his hot body, turns him into something like Jae’s small bubble. He likes his bubble. “But that doesn’t explain why you were choking him. People are disrespecting you on a daily basis.”

“Thank you,” he huffs at Wonpil and squeezes his side, smiling when Wonpil giggles. “No, his words just came at the wrong time.”

“Ah, Sungjin’s pressuring you again?” Wonpil leans up and smiles at Jae with mirth, his eyes shaped in crescent as his fingers go through the fading blue and nearly blonde hair. “Is that why you decided to have a make-over?” Wonpil shushes him with a finger on his mouth when he tries to deny everything. “I’ve already taken a glimpse into your wardrobe. At first, I thought that maybe you’re dressing up for someone special, but that makes so much more sense.”

“Scared that I found someone better than you?”

They both grin at each other and Wonpil hits his chest lightly. “Don’t say things like that if we both know that you have already found your other half.”

They’ve had such a good moment, why does Wonpil feel the need to start _that_ again? Jae throws his head into his neck with a long groan, pushing the younger away from him.

“If you say that you’re talking about Brian, I swear to god, you’re the first person I’ll kill.”

“Sungjin told me that you’re spending every night with him.”

“And whose fault is this?”

Wonpil sticks his tongue out at Jae at which Jae takes the chance to chase after said tongue to initiate another heated make-out session that magically is even better than the one before.

The silence is filled with their quiet moans and whimpers, with lips sucking, biting the other and hands roaming deeper and deeper. Jae’s hand is dipping right between Wonpil’s ass cheeks when Wonpil suddenly draws back and pushes Jae back into the bed, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You’ve got a new batch, right?”

Jae’s smile then mirrors slowly that of Wonpil. “Yeah, better than the one before. You wanna try?”

“Pills, powder or grass?” Wonpil jumps from the bed and walks over to the small sideboard in the room, opens the first drawer and takes out a small box where Jae puts the samples in.

Disclaimer: Jae doesn’t usually do drugs. He is not a fan of smoking, he is honestly scared of needles and his nose has never been well with anything. The pills he can do, has learnt it in college years ago (the fact that it had been with a certain Kang Younghyun is only secondary), but the trip wasn’t worth the hangover he felt afterwards.

Plus, now that he is the patron of their drug trade (well, nowadays it’s Chan who is managing the whole drug trafficking and selling and Jae is only saying yes or no like a king) he can’t get addicted to his own drugs (technically he can because he is a mobster who doesn’t care for rules, but Jae likes to have a little bit of morality at work) (Twisted, he knows, duh).

Wonpil doesn’t have such worries. He isn’t addicted, just enjoys them more often than Jae (like, again, two times in three months would be more often than Jae) and sometimes Jae decides to indulge himself and go on a trip with Wonpil together.

Today is such a day where Jae feels like doing so. And because he feels like he needs to prove something, he nods towards the box with his chin. “Bring the weed. I’m gonna roll one.”

“Ouh,” Wonpil hoots and collects everything needed. “Someone feels adventurous today, eh?”

Rolling a joint is something Jae is skilled at even though he has rarely smoked himself. He was mostly that guy on a party who rolled the joint like a candy cone and got praised for it. He was even kind of famous for it.

Only back then, he hadn’t Kim Wonpil hanging over his shoulder and nibbling at his neck, kissing and licking and sucking and Jae probably has more hickeys there than ever (which is a lot if he thinks back to the one person he has ever been in a relationship with).

Wonpil is hugging him from behind, his fingers grazing over his nipples, sometimes flicking them, pinching, playing and it’s very hard to concentrate with his dick twitching and waiting for Jae to finally take some action.

Jae puts the beautifully crafted stick between his lips and reaches for his pants to get the box of cigarettes out. He opens the half-consumed box and takes the lighter out, throwing the rest away and lights the stick in his mouth with a certain accustomed graze.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t.” Jae takes a deep inhale and ignores the taste on his tongue, holding the smoke in his lungs to feel the warmth filling his body, exhaling slowly and watching the cloud vanishing into the air. “It’s just in case my clients want a smoke. It brings me sympathy points if I smoke with them.”

Wonpil plugs the cigarette from his fingers and takes a deep breath himself, his face not so smiling and open anymore. Jae leans his head back onto Wonpil’s shoulder, nosing his neck to get his attention. Wonpil turns his head and lines up their mouths, his lungs still filled with smoke and exhaled directly into Jae’s mouth. Jae breathes through his mouth, a deep moan breaking the silence, followed by Wonpil’s lips smacking against his and feverishly licking into his mouth.

Would it have been the same feeling if Brian had done that when Jae had shared the smoke with him? Would the meeting of their lips have eventually resolved all of their problems or would it have worsened their relationship even further?

Their kiss is then and now interrupted by one of them taking a drag from the joint, their breathes mingling, and Jae’s head spins so he doesn’t even know where he begins and where Wonpil ends. Their hands are intertwined as are their legs, their bodies touching from chest to hip, nearly no space between them. Their dicks are rubbing into the other’s belly, creating a slight friction to slowly increase the pleasure but not by too much.

“I was worried at first when I arrived in your flat and it smelled like smoke,” Wonpil confesses when Jae takes the last drag and puts the stick out on the nightstand. “But then I figured that it’s Younghyun-hyung’s smell. He has that certain smell that is easily to pick up.”

Jae doesn’t want to talk about Brian at all. Brian is an instant boner killer, talking about the same thing with Wonpil every time. He just wants to cradle Wonpil’s face between his hands and suck the air out of him, very romantically of course.

“That’s a very comforting smell,” Wonpil continues even though Jae mouths at his throat and leaves little pecks down to his collar bones. “Don’t you think so, too? Younghyun-hyung is— ah— a calming person in general.”

“Why are we talking about him?”

Wonpil presses a lingering kiss on his forehead and puts his legs over Jae’s hip, looking deeply into his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, nearly nothing left of the iris.

“Tell me about them. Your dreams with Younghyun-hyung.”

Jae’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and a swallow follows. Wonpil is charming even without a smile. His gaze is so… it makes his own defenses crumbling into dust.

“It’s usually just sex until he chokes me to death. So, same as always.”

“But you say usually. What’s different?”

Jae pushes his head into Wonpil’s chest, hiding his face from the other. Wonpil’s arm come around his shoulders, caressing his sides with soft strokes.

“Yesterday I dreamt…” Jae starts hesitantly. “We were in a park. I wanted to read this book but Younghyun, he couldn’t stop touching me or kissing me. We were alone in the park, it got a little bit heated. Then he was choking me to death and that’s it. “

“What’s the difference to the other dreams?”

His mind is intoxicated. He is high on weed and lust, his body is damp and trembling and his mind reeling. It’s hard to grasp a clear thought as his senses are filled with the smell of grass and sex and Wonpil.

Yet, he doesn’t need his brain. He doesn’t need his thoughts when he has his heart. His heart is such a precious thing that needs to be protected. Jae has been careless and let it be broken and stomped over again and again. He has started to resent it and yet he can’t help but feel deeply. He feels the longing and heartbreak as if they are his old friends waiting for him to recognize them. He feels a burning desire and a small flame that wants to blaze into a full fire.

“The difference is…”

Jae isn’t good at facing his emotions. It feels like falling down a rabbit hole once he starts and he can never get himself to stop without tearing himself apart. His heart such a precious thing and yet, Jae is the first person to discard it as a piece of trash. Sometimes Jae really wishes to be heartless person, cold and devoid of any emotion. His life would be so much better and easier.

“The difference is that this has been the moment I saw him by my side in the future. Jae and Younghyun against the world. I’m such a sap sometimes, sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry for what you feel. It’s okay to feel that, hyung. You couldn’t have known what awaits you in your future.”

“Did you?” Jae asks after a beat. “Know that you’re going to be a mobster?”

“No,” Wonpil says with a small smile. “No, I didn’t. But love makes us do things we thought to be incapable of.”

~~~

Wonpil is sitting in the kitchen and is still nursing his morning coffee when Jae enters the open-spaced floor. His hand is fiddling with his gun as he checks for a last time the munition and tugs it behind his back into his pants. His hand then tugs at his turtleneck and his face forms a grimace at the thought of wearing the black sweater on a hot summer day. So, he tries to wing the smart look by putting on a beige jacket and is now searching for his beloved round glasses.

“Have you seen my glasses?”

Looking for his glasses is a challenge by itself because without them he is somewhat blind. He doesn’t know why he started to put contacts into his eyes instead of wearing his glasses since he thinks he looks rather good in them, but at one point he sort of stopped wearing them. Well, good thing he ordered a whole bunch of new glasses so he can bring them back again.

It only needs a few frustrated minutes of searching before Wonpil is sliding them on his nose. His smile gets from blurry to pretty clear and Jae gifts him with a small peck as a thank you.

“Isn’t it too warm in that sweater?” Wonpil asks as his fingers play with the turtleneck. His smile though betrays the innocence of that question.

“I apparently got assaulted by vampire last night, so….”

Their banter feels quite domestic. It’s a slow and early morning, both have already eaten for breakfast and Jae’s ready to head out for another long day. Wonpil’s suitcase that has been carelessly thrown into the living room space stands next to the elevator. Its owner currently sets the cup of coffee into the sink while Jae watches him from the table.

“What have you planned for the day?” Jae asks curiously.

“Gonna head back home and then to Sungjin’s.”

Good thing he knows Wonpil by now. It’s easy for Jae to pick up on the small change in Wonpil’s tone.

“What happened down there?”

With a deep sigh, Wonpil then leans against the counter, his arms crossed on his chest.

“You know how someone’s been meddling with our shipment?”

“Yeah, Sungjin told me one is missing?”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Wonpil speaks solemnly, “but I found that ship.”

That sounds off. “Well, where is it?”

“Right at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.”

Jae’s eyes double in their width and his eyebrows shoot high. “Someone sank that ship?”

Wonpil nods, his tongue prodding along his cheek from the inside. "Not someone. The captain did. Shot the whole crew and detonated some bombs. Good thing he went down with it.”

“Do you know why he did it?”

Jae taps his fingers against the counter, his phone vibrating in his pocket. His next appointment is due in half an hour and he needs approximately twenty minutes to the café they’d set to meet in. It’s only a small drug deal with an idol, nothing special, and said idol could certainly wait for Jae a few minutes. His stomach is squeezing and his eyes blinking hard. He hates this nervous tick that always comes out when a bad feeling builds up inside his chest.

“There’s no reason for it. The captain got paid and has no affiliation with anyone whatsoever. Just some random boatman from Ilsan who needed money. No connection or contact to anyone except for his family. No mafia, no bad friends, nothing.”

There are bells ringing in Jae’s mind. He is missing something significant and going by Wonpil’s look, he hasn’t dropped the real bomb yet. He is hesitating and Wonpil never hesitates.

“Hyung,” Wonpil starts and it sets Jae on edge, “If I didn’t know any better, I would say it was an inside job.”

Jae shoots up from his seat and scurries over to the windows, laughing in disbelief. “Be careful with what you say. An inside job? One from our own? Why? It wouldn’t make any sense.”

Wonpil watches Jae pacing back and forth in front of the Seoul skyline, his posture more relaxed than before. Wonpil is always calmer than the other, playing the voice of reason.

“I’m not accusing anyone. It’s just, the job went too well. The captain got onto the ship without trouble and no one even bothered to question his existence. As if he’s been there for a long time which, in fact, he wasn’t. And when I investigated, you know what my guys said? They’ve seen him around, but no one has ever talked to him. Like a ghost. I don’t know how he got the documents without stirring any suspicion, he got the weapons and then whisks bombs out of thin air. It’s too smooth of a story.”

“So, we have a mole, you say? Someone who’s deep inside and spins their webs?” He doesn’t feel like pacing around anymore. He feels like sitting down and sleeping ten years to relieve the stress. He knows this isn’t his problem to deal with, it’s Wonpil who has to find the mole. It’s agitating nonetheless because Jae knows that he has to find the mole. Because that mole could be a threat to everything he has built around him.

He sits down in his armchair and puts his hand in front of his eyes, thinking and frowning. An insider helped some man without any further connection to Seoul’s underworld to get rid of a whole ship full of weapons. Why? What are the motives? Sure, it could be meant as a simple try to sabotage their dealings, but that mole had the captain in his pocket. A captain who could overwhelm a whole crew by himself (which is crazy in itself when Jae thinks about it too hard). Wouldn’t it be easier and more profitable to simply abduct the ship? Why sink it?

“You know who else is from Ilsan?”

Jae’s head snaps up from his armchair to Wonpil across the room. The dark expression set on Wonpil’s face only deepens his concerns. Especially the answer Wonpil has for him.

“Kim Namjoon.”

~~~

_Can I tell that Johnny Suh guy to fuck off?_

Should Jae feel bad that he kind of forgot about that guy? Maybe, nah. He has too much on his mind to take care of Johnny’s incessant calls to Chan but according to his favorite drug dealer, Johnny is calling him at least once a day. He has a free hour at Friday, he thinks and checks his calendar. Yeah, there is a free spot between Jae doesn’t care and Jae really doesn’t want to.

With a heavy sigh he answers.

_Tell him this Friday, 3 p.m._

He pockets his phone and looks up again at the hole in the wall restaurant that looks like the lovechild of too much aegyo and technological advancement. As if Miku Hatsune will jump out of a screen and personally serves Jae a pink strawberry latte.

He orders the black coffee out of spite and sits down in a booth right at the back.

He isn’t sure why he is sitting here but it was Sungjin who asked him to. The shop is quiet and empty, the tunes of a common pop-song sounding through the air. Jae bobs his head out of habit, sips at his coffee and goes through Twitter on his phone.

Today is a slow day even on Twitter, the all-trending hashtag of fans mourning over the split up of an idol group, something Jae isn’t interested in but still has to follow. Since one idol of said group is his customer.

He swipes through the tag and snorts at a few memes, his mind procuring some images of potential memes about himself. He is still young at heart and loves meme culture, posting sometimes the ones he did himself. He dares say that they are funny. He even has a small number of followers.

The chair across his table scrapes along the floor and someone plops down on it with an exasperated huff. They plug Jae’s coffee out of his hand and take a drink themselves, leaving Jae staring at the newcomer with disbelieving eyes and an open mouth.

“What the—”

His exclamation gets disrupted by the hard slam of coffee against the table and suddenly, Jae sits ramrod straight in his seat as said person draws a gun out of his jacket and discreetly aims at him.

The coffee shop is empty, the vendor out of eyesight and a guy is sitting across him with a gun in his hands. Jae wishes the slow day back.

“We know that you have Kai and Beomgyu.”

Jae slumps back in his seat and steals his coffee back to take a calming sip. He eyes the boy in front of him, looking young and terrifying. His stare rivals the one he has seen on anyone else, but the big deer eyes destroy it a little bit. The hoodie on his head makes it somewhat difficult to identify him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jae eventually settles on the safest bet which is playing dumb.

“Kai never came back from his heist that day,” the boy answers curtly.

Fucking Brian Kang. He probably never let the boy go and Jae really prays to god that he is still alive. He has to get a word with Brian like instantly, otherwise Jae should look up the flight tickets to Antarctica.

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The boy’s anger reflects in his eyes and deepens downward tug of his lips, and Jae feels like he should run right now if he wants to survive. This was such a bad idea. All Sungjin’s fault, really! Why did he even have to go in here?

“Don’t fuck with me, I swear. Namjoon may be more patient with you, but I’m not. Not when you have my friends.”

So, he is from Namjoon. But who is he? Jae has memorized all faces of Namjoon’s inner circle, why isn’t this person coming up in his mind? There are bells ringing somewhere deep in his mind, but the panic makes it hard to think.

“Tell me who you are, and I tell you what happened with Kai. And put that gun down, for god’s sake.”

The boy stoically stares at Jae and never moves the weapon. He never tells him his name, instead he takes off the hood and reveals brown hair falling down in gentle waves across his eyes. It’s the same hairstyle Wonpil wears and that’s what connects the dots in Jae’s brain. He panics and he panics hard.

“You’re the hitman, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Did Namjoon really send the hitman to get him? Is this what is going to happen? Is Sungjin in on it? _It’s an inside job_ , Wonpil’s words replay in his mind over and over again, but is it still an inside job when Sungjin’s on it? Wait a minute, where do those thoughts come from, they literally have no connection at all.

The panic must show on Jae’s face because Jeongguk’s lips tug upright into a charming smile, revealing a set of bunny teeth that make him look even younger and less dangerous. This smile, it oddly reminds him of someone else.

“Not bad,” Jeongguk praises him which makes Jae somewhat sick in his stomach, “My face isn’t that widely known.”

“Makes the job harder otherwise.” Jae knows from Wonpil. He has once explained him why everyone recognizes Brian, Sungjin and Dowoon but never Wonpil. It’s hard to stay undercover if your face is commonly known for everyone.

“If you value your life, tell me where Kai and Beomgyu are.”

Jae values his life. Like a lot. But he needs to play this as good as possible.

“I don’t know about Beomgyu—” at which Jeongguk scoffs loudly “-but I told Younghyun to let him go. I don’t know what happened then.”

“What about Beomgyu?”

Jae sinks down the seat, eyeing the weapon in Jeongguk’s steady hands. “I already told you, I have no idea.”

“If you’re lying—”

“Look,” Jae offers and puts both of his hands softly down on the table. “I don’t know what Namjoon told you, but please stop asking questions I can’t answer, okay?” In other words, _stop prying into things that doesn’t concern you_.

“You have two of my friends, I don’t care what—”

“Ask him.” Jae swallows, leaning slightly forward and licks his lips. “Ask Namjoon-ssi about it and not me. I can only offer to check on Kai but nothing more. And it’s in our both best interest if we leave this scene without causing a ruckus. So, put that gun away and we both do as if all of that never has happened, okay?”

Seconds tick by. They are both frozen in their seats, one contemplating gaze meeting the other. The sweat runs down Jae’s spine and he hates it even more that he has to wear that turtleneck.

This has to go well. His own hands creep down to his back where he safely stores his own gun and even if his chances with a well-trained hitman is nearly zero, he has to fight for it. He is ready to draw his weapon—

When suddenly Jeongguk’s lips form a bright bunny-teethed smile, shaping his eyes in two cute crescents and luckily, he puts finally the gun down. Jae feels the breath leaving for the confusion that settles in immediately after that.

“You did well, Park Jaehyung-ssi. Namjoon told me tease you a bit before I deliver the message.”

Jae stares flabbergasted at the boy. He got played, didn’t he? He got fooled by a bunny, what the hell? Jae throws his head into his neck and hits the wall behind him, groaning.

“I hate you guys. Wasn’t it enough to send Kai on a death-mission?”

“Aish, he’s stubborn and sturdy and won’t die too easily.” Jeongguk steals his coffee again and takes the last remaining sips, sighing loudly when finished. “And since he never came back, Namjoon-hyung wanted to lay it on thick.”

“I hate you guys, no joke. Why can’t you let me live my life in peace?”

“You know why, Jaehyung-ssi.” Jeongguk puts on his hoodie again, shadowing his eyes like an overdramatic anime character. “Kai and me right now? That’s a nice warning. Namjoon is getting impatient and awaits progress and so far, we got nearly nothing from you.”

“Well, same goes to you. You promised me to—”

“And we did. Kai should have told you to stop looking for the murderer _on the streets_.”

Jae heart stills. Yesterday, he was too panicked to get it. He just wanted the boy to be gone, far out of reach for Brian and Felix, now though he realizes the real message. And if it is what Jae thinks it is, he needs to talk to someone. He doesn’t know who but someone, preferably someone he trusts with his whole heart.

“Tell Kim Namjoon-ssi that the producer’s in if he gets what he wants. And what he wants is a fair share of Seoul’s best substances. I’m working on it right now.”

Jeongguk nods and stands up as the bell rings above the entrance, the noises of the world outside filtering in for a few seconds. Steps echo through the empty shop, no welcoming voice booming through air, just determined steps towards their table. Jeongguk smiles brightly at the newcomer and nods, turning a last time around to look at Jae.

“Do what you’ve been told, and we’ll hopefully never see each other again.”

That are Jeongguk’s last words before he goes, stopping shortly to greet the newcomer with a friendly hug and light punch against his arm.

Jae watches the scene with wide eyes, feeling double played at one day when he sees the similar smiles in one place, and the thought of being a dumbass never leaving his mind. The newcomer then takes the place that has been occupied by Jeongguk before, same smile and charm.

“Long time no see, Jae-hyung.”

Slow day his ass. He needs a vacation.

“We’re both dead men, aren’t we? Does Jaebeom-ssi know anything about it?”

The way Yugyeom smiles is answer enough. They really are dead men.

~~~

There are a few things that Jae has to do that day. He doesn’t know why he even writes lists in his head to work through it since every hour it changes (and Jae doesn’t keep up with it anyways).

He needs to talk to Sungjin; however, Jae very much avoids that conversation for now. He needs to check on Kai and pay Brian a visit accordingly, something he also puts off as long as possible. He needs to get ahold of Jackson very soon, but only his assistant is available on the phone and won’t give him an appointment, only a vague maybe tomorrow.

Right now, he is on his way to another emergency meeting. Well, less of an emergency and more of a distraction. Chan has called him when he left the coffee shop and told him to check in with Dowoon as something is wrong with the latest drug batch. Chan would do it himself but there is something urgent that needs his whole attention.

(“What is so urgent that you can’t make a courtesy visit?”

Chan hesitates before he answers which Jae doesn’t like at all. Why does he only know people who hesitate when they have bad news for him? “Nothing bad, there are just some guys causing a ruckus at the warehouse.”

“How bad is it really?” He can see through the bullshit, especially with Chan’s barely hidden worried tone.

“They’d set fire to our stock. We don’t know what survived and what not.”

At this point, Jae’s head is between his legs and he tries very hard not to cry out of desperation.

“Hyung, can I call you back once we have full control of the situation? Or better, I come to Dowoon’s when I’m finished here.”

“Come to the YoungK. I’m gonna head over there tonight.”)

The entertainment section is creepier during the day than the night. The streets are dead, and the charming lights outside seem bland against the bright sky. Not many are seen here, avoiding the streets during the broad daylight to not be associated with something so sinful and taboo.

Dowoon’s main establishment is sensual and visually pleasing in every way. It combines the cliched red-light brothel with the ambience of a Vegas nightclub. When Jae enters, the receptionist nods at him and takes her phone to inform Dowoon of his arrival, something she is long used to do. Jae walks inside and targets the bar directly, ignoring the young boys and girls purring to get his attention.

They always try and Dowoon once told him it’s like challenge for them since Jae never indulges in any advances of the whores. Jae feels flattered to be considered a trophy that so many people in a house try to get into their beds, but he could never do so.

And he has Wonpil, so no thanks.

He sits down at the bar and orders two shots of tequila and a beer to get off some stress of the day. There are so many things he has to think about but doesn’t want to and maybe it helps to intoxicate his mind. Maybe he should ring up Wonpil tonight again and ask him to bring his bong.

Dowoon probably knows to find him here at the bar when Jae won’t show up in his office the next few minutes. That is enough time to down his drinks.

When the barkeeper brings him his liquor, Jae takes out his wallet to pay, only to get denied doing so by said barkeeper. Who is he to say no to free drinks? So, Jae downs one, two, three and then four tequila in two goes (next time he orders four tequila right away) and eventually starts sipping at the martini.

“Someone had a stressful day, hmm?” A high and smooth voice disturbs his pity party.

Jae angles his body towards the young man sitting down next to him, said young man blinking with a sultry smile at him. He looks rather beautiful than sexy today, Jae notices, especially how the choker accentuates his neck. The violet light colors his skin in lewd tones, another plus point for Dowoon’s interior design skills.

“When is my life not stressful?”

The young boy chuckles and swats at Jae, one eyebrow climbing up his forehead. “I haven’t seen you in a long time and Dowoonie looks even more stressed out than usual.”

Jae takes a sip from his martini, looking down at the drink as it doesn’t live up to his expectations. YoungK’s martinis were a lot better (and Jae had been more inebriated that night).

“How’s life in here, Ten?”

Ten has been with Dowoon for some time now. He came years ago with a fresh batch of Thai girls and boys and since then has worked his way up in Dowoon’s small brothel. He became a mentor for the younger ones and functions most time as a translator for Dowoon because Ten can speak five languages.

Dowoon took a liking to him and promoted Ten from whore to the brothel’s sort-of manager, a title that is more a farce than a position. Ten isn’t forced to sleep with people anymore and only dances for them out of freewill. He takes care of the younger ones and oversees the business when Dowoon isn’t in.

Ten knows his boundaries that he pushes as far as he can and for them it’s okay as long as he understands the simple rule: Ten belongs to them and is dead if he only thinks about talking. Or running away.

So far, it has never come to any problems. Hopefully, it stays like that.

“Just the usual except for Dowoon who’s apparently on his period. He’s nagging the whole time and pisses off everyone here.”

“No,” Jae breathes in exaggerated disbelief, “not our Dowoonie!” He claps his hand against his cheek, his mouth open in shock.

Ten rolls his eyes and jabs playfully at Jae’s shoulder. “Even that shy bean has some sass in him. He’s shading literally everyone here. You want to know what he said when Lisa was bitching about Bambam’s visit this week?”

“Bambam was here?” Jae perks up.

“Yeah, I think it was on Thursday? Bambam’s so noisy, you can’t miss his presence. I don’t know why he was here though, can’t believe this pimp has it in him to be discreet since he’s a sucker for gossip.”

The bartender serves Ten a fancy looking cocktail with glitter, umbrella and a twirled straw at which Ten throws him a stink-eye, yet still sucks at the straw through his lips. Jae takes the time to take a swig from his bottle of beer (whenever this happened, Jae wonders), digesting the information about Bambam’s visit.

Particularly because he is still waiting for Jackson’s visit. One would say that Jackson is easier to get ahold of but no, next thing Jae knows he is meeting Jaebeom himself even before Jackson. He should give Jackson’s assistant another call. Maybe he should get himself an assistant, Chan proved himself to be an unreliable one.

“If I’m not mistaken, you like to gossip, too, don’t you?” Jae asks after a few seconds of silence. He side-eyes Ten and waits for his reaction, earns a cocky smile from the other.

Ten sets his drink carefully down, wipes his lower lip with his thumb and licks the remnants of his cocktail off it, his gaze never wavering from Jae. Jae is unimpressed.

“What do you want to know?”

Jae inclines his body towards the Thai and leans his arm against the tabletop, resting his head against his head. Ten scoots down his stool a bit and leans towards Jae, the distance between them distinctly smaller than before.

“Boys are getting killed on the streets and I want to know why.”

“Is it about the delivery boys or the dead one in your apartment?”

Jae’s smile is instantly wiped off his face, and his eyebrow rises in question to elaborate. Ten smirks in return and chuckles lightly.

“Everybody knows about the dead body. Namjoon, as humble as he seems to be, has set an example to never ever enter his territory without his permission, so surely people eventually hear about it.”

Ah, Jae figures. It’s all about power and threats. Jae knows how important it is to show the world what you are capable of. It is all just a show consisting of people waving their big guns and even bigger words around, like some perverse dick comparison of who has the longest. Jae would know about it; he lives in an apartment at the top floor just to look down upon Seoul.

“Did you hear anything else beside that?”

Ten tips his finger against his chin, clearly thinking. Or buying time to appear more charming than he already is. He hears the faint sound of bills leaving his wallet anytime soon.

“I’m sure that Felix would have already told you if the streets had been talking.” Jae deflates a little bit but still holds on to that teasing smile Ten suddenly gets. “But I heard something interesting.”

“And what is it?”

He doesn’t like the way Ten is looking at him. That contemplating look, that smile that knows so many secrets, and Jae remembers the first time Dowoon has asked for his opinion on Ten.

Even back then, Jae has told him to treat Ten with caution. He was too smooth— still is— suave and good at what he is doing. Jae knows when he meets someone like him; someone who uses words as his greatest weapon.

The moment goes by quickly and Ten turns around to sip innocently at his drink, winking at a dumbfounded Jae. His face is white as a sheet and his hands are wet, no matter how often he rubs them on his pants. This is pathetic, he is pathetic, the paranoia prickling at his neck, burning down his veins and lungs.

“No offense, Jaehyung-ssi, but you’re off your game. Seoul is speaking but you’re deaf to its words.”

“And what is it,” Jae slowly starts, “that you advise me to do?”

Ten’s feet are suddenly intertwined with his, his earring dangling as Ten leans down, his hand trailing up Jae’s leg while the other discreetly slips a card into his pocket. His breath is tickling Jae’s ear and his voice is pitched low, nearly inaudible over the heavy beat of a song blasting through the speaker.

“Call him back and listen to an offer that you can’t decline.”

Ten knows how to manipulate people—a skill Jae has believed to mastered himself years ago—mirroring it in his moves as he walks down the hallway with such a confident stance, never once looking back and leaving Jae with a breath caged in his lungs.

His fingers creep towards his pants to fish out the card but flinches away as soon as he sees Dowoon entering the bar. Jae looks away to take a second to collect himself, blinking heavily against the bright light until the sounds get clearer and his mind isn’t reeling anymore.

“What brings you here, hyung?”

Dowoon’s smile is strained and yet friendly, his happiness to see Jae overshadowed by something that is troubling him deeply. Jae opens his mouth to inquire about the reasons but then thinks better; his mind is too full of problems and maybe he should give Dowoon the room to express his concerns himself.

“Chan send me here because there’s some problems with my drugs?”

Dowoon sits down on the stool Ten had been sitting, oblivious to the conversation that has just occurred here. His face has those lines he usually never sports, and the way how he downs the rest of Jae’s beer, wow, that’s quite impressive.

“Shouldn’t Chan be the one here asking me that?” Dowoon asks curiously before he turns and orders two more bottles.

“He’s a bit preoccupied.”

They take simultaneously a swig from their beer and sigh at the refreshing taste of it.

“Is it bad?”

Lately, all things are bad. Jae wants to return to the times where he goes to glamorous parties, drinks and seduces old men into buying his drugs or selling their souls to their mob. The good old bribery is something he hasn’t done in a long time.

Easy times, sigh.

“Apparently, someone set my drugs on fire,” he eventually sighs defeatedly and resists the urge to hit his head against the bar in hopes to die.

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh. As if it isn’t bad enough that the people who deliver his drugs are vanishing, no, his stock is mass reduced, so he doesn’t even have a product to deliver anymore. This is a disaster. Hopefully Chan saves a big chunk of it.

“That’s actually pretty good. Your drugs were shit.”

Or maybe not.

“What?” Jae panics because his drugs are the hit and not the shit. ‘Five out of five stars, would do again’ quality.

Dowoon licks his lips and the imaginary clock ticks by as Jae awaits the brutal truth.

“Well, they’re tainted. The quality’s bad overall and, uhm… it killed one of my girls.”

This isn’t what he has anticipated. Like, at all.

Jae is gaping at Dowoon and his mind searches through the mistakes that could have happened, but he finds nothing. Chan would inform him if something has changed with the delivery or if they got swapped or anything. But he can’t come up with anything.

“What the hell!” Dowoon jumps as Jae bursts out, “I tested them myself just yesterday and they were fine!”

Dowoon looks taken aback at Jae. “You do drugs?!”

“No.” Jae goes through his hair in distress. “It was just one joint and maybe a bit of cocaine later, but that’s not the point! I swear, there was nothing wrong with it.”

“Hyung,” Dowoon calmly says, “I believe you. I’m more concerned about you taking those drugs, though.”

“Wonpil likes to try them from time to time because it makes everything more… sensitive?” He tries to explain with the help of his hand motioning.

Dowoon pulls a grimace and scoots a bit away from him. “Hyung, no, I don’t want to know what you and Wonpil-hyung do in bed.”

Maybe it helps to drown his thoughts in alcohol and later calm down with a nice drag of that weed. Just to test the quality again. Not because he feels like putting his head into the floor to ignore all the problems weighing him down.

“So… Wonpil’s back?”

He appreciates Dowoon’s topic change when Jae leans his forehead against his hands and looks distraughtly at his problems. He would answer, totally, because he likes talking to Dowoon who is a very good listener if he isn’t teasing him about Brian, who Jae needs to see today as well. It’s just, there is a slight issue.

Said issue being two men storming into the bar with one of Dowoon’s girls in a headlock, one gun aimed towards the room, the other against the girl’s head. Jae’s and Dowoon’s heads whip towards the commotion and when their gazes meet that of the two in black dressed men, the trigger is pulled, and everything goes to hell.

Blood from the girl’s head splatters everywhere, loud screaming as everyone tries to find a save place. Dowoon knocks Jae to the floor as the barkeeper pulls a shotgun from under the bar and targets the men in black.

The gun fight opens.

Jae isn’t fast enough to realize what is happening. He sees Dowoon drawing his own gun to shoot one of the men into his leg, his mouth forming words that Jae can’t comprehend. Only when a bullet misses his head a few inches that time moves back in normal speed and Jae realizes he has to do _something_!

The two men somehow became five as they are storming into the place, shooting Dowoon’s guards and occasionally an innocent girl or boy who couldn’t reach a safe place.

Jae draws his own gun from his back and aims at the men in front of him, only to realize that they are inching towards him and Dowoon kneeling behind bar stools. The best place to hide in a shooting, really.

“We need to get behind the bar,” Dowoon screams and it shakes Jae down to his core because he has never heard Dowoon raising his voice in such a manner. Cold and dangerous.

Dowoon waits for the perfect chance that comes when one man goes down, a shot right through his heart, and jumps right over the bar with Jae in his tow. The jump hurt more than it should and Dowoon quickly ducks down to reload his gun while Jae stares at the dead barman lying on the ground. He hasn’t even noticed that he got hit.

His head follows Dowoon’s movement, how the younger perches on the tabletop to shoot at the intruders, no trembling and no hesitating, and Jae knows he has to do it, has to take the leap over the abyss and do what has to be done.

He scrambles up cautiously and peeks over the bar, only to quickly duck down again as a shot splinters the wood near where his head has been seconds before. The gun in his hands is trembling but there is no time to think, so he tries again and goes up, sees one man hiding behind a wall and looking directly at Jae. Just like a showdown in a western movie, the fastest man the one who survives.

Aim. Shoot. Hit. Game over.

The man’s scream pierces through the air and his hand presses against his abdomen. Jae’s weapon lies calmly between his hands and he can’t set it down, too fascinated by the sight of what he just has done.

And he feels… nothing. This is anticlimactic. He just has shot his loaded gun for the first time and hit another person; he thought that maybe he is going to have a full breakdown over that, trembling as if the earth is being shook to its core, losing his mind over such a thing; but in the end, he feels nothing. Just coldness.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Jae isn’t made for gunfights. He is inexperienced and his only knowledge derives from video games. It is nothing against the harsh reality.

In hindsight, Jae would say he is reckless. He lets his guard down too fast after he shot that guy because of his lack of epiphany, and maybe he deserves the following pain.

The piercing pain of a bullet grazing his shoulder and Dowoon ramming into him to preserve him from getting shot again, both of them crashing into the shelves behind them. The bottles and glasses tumble down onto their form, shattering on the floor and cutting through their skin. Jae protects his head with his arms and sits out the alcohol rain.

It is only when it stops that he realizes that the scene is quiet and the dust settling down. He is drenched in all different kind of alcohol, his hair sticking to his forehead and eyes, Dowoon not looking any better. They both stand up cautiously, looking around and counting five men clad in black dead on the floor. They had taken three innocent girls and boys with them and another three of Dowoon’s security employees.

The glass is crushing beneath his feet as he walks through the room and assesses the damage on himself; his shoulder bleeding from a grazed shot, his hands and arms scattered with glass pushing through the skin, especially the back of his hands. His other shoulder hurts slightly from the jump over the bar.

He eventually reaches that one guy with the bullet in his abdomen. His eyes are wide open, a piercing blue so clear. His black clothes deny Jae to see the wound, to see the cause of his dead, and he awaits the reaction he should have.

It never comes.

~~~

It is raining that evening. Jae usually enjoys the rain. Today, it’s different. Seoul is bland and gray, and he watches the city towering over him from a small car window. Jae’s personal driver has picked him up from the bar and brings him to his next destination, a place he doesn’t want to be in right now.

He would prefer to stay at Dowoon’s bar, to hear about the investigation of the men, why they were there and who their target was. Dowoon is currently waiting for Sungjin and Wonpil to brief them on the whole scene and Jae, Jae is on his way to the YoungK.

He has nearly died once that day, and he wants it to stay like that. Jeongguk’s threat never leaves his mind for a second and Jae needs to be sure that Brian has let the boy go. Plus, he has told Chan to meet him here. Jae is particularly interested in why the fuck his drugs are a health hazard.

The wounds are burning, and Jae wants to relieve the itching caused by the salve, but all the scratching above the bandage don’t help. That itch is everywhere, from the back of his hands up to his shoulder. His cheek hurts from one nasty cut. His hair is a mess and sticks to his skin, his glasses have a crack on one side, and he had to change out of his clothes.

Ten has been so kind to borrow him some clothes that are a tack too small, so Jae wears a shirt whose sleeves are too short and end just above his hips while his sweater and blazer are safely stored in Dowoon’s trashcan. At least now he doesn’t have to explain why his neck looks like he got assaulted by a vampire.

It’s early evening, the streets are full during rush hour. The drive drags on and on and Jae’s head has found its way against the window. He feels drained and tired to the bones, his eyes blinking relentlessly in stress. When he sees himself in the window, his doesn’t even has the energy to be shocked about himself. Jae looks worse for wear, as if he is coming directly from a brawl which technically isn’t wrong.

The car comes to a halt and Jae steps out, his head bend down to hide his face. It is enough that people stare at his bandaged wrists and hands. The music is faint and quiet and thankfully significantly less people play at the casino on an early evening.

Jae lets his gaze wander around the room, his hand twitching at his side and his body assuring him that his gun is tightly pressed into his back. He finds Felix loitering around the roulette table chatting up a rich and dumb looking boy decrepitating his money at that definitely not manipulated game. Felix probably knows where Brian or Kai are.

So, Jae walks up to the younger and puts his hand on his arm. “Felix, do you know where I can find Brian?”

“Sure, Younghyu— Holy shit what happened to you?!”

It doesn’t even take a second before Felix is dragging him off towards the back doors. His fingers are tight around his arm and Jae winces in pain. Felix doesn’t seem to hear him, his agitation too high to focus on something else than getting Jae out of the casino and right to – considering the way they are taking— Brian’s office.

Brian’s office is like entering the mind of said owner. The wall is decorated with many different string instruments, a few pictures of landscapes from Brian’s early adulthood travels hanging in between them. The other wall is stacked high with books in shelves, novels, university notes, notebooks and so much more. The bookshelves are only a farce for the things they are heading, a small stash of Jae’s drugs and a bigger stash of Wonpil’s weapons stored safely behind it.

The window in the room isn’t that big nor overviewing the top of the world, it is a rather small and plain balcony door that opens up to the quiet side of the street.

Brian is currently standing at the balcony and watches the clouds wandering around the world in a small pace, a cigarette burns between his fingers while the smoke vanishes into the air. Inhale. Exhale. It’s only his back that Jae can see but it’s enough to let him remember that one night days ago—

“Younghyun-hyung,” Felix announces their arrival, “Jae-hyung is here!”

Jae has probably killed a man and doesn’t feel anything about it. Now he is facing Brian and his heart races so hard he thinks someone should call an ambulance. His breath gets caught when Brian takes a last drag from his cigarette, inhaling so much smoke and holding it in, before he snaps the cigarette away and lets out his own cloud into the air. Jae swallows hard while his eyes trace Brian’s stretched neck and his bobbing adam’s apple.

That moment is broken right when Brian finally turns around and sees Jae for the first time. His movements still completely and his eyes double their width, something akin to horror etches into his face.

One moment they are staring at each other, the next Brian is storming over and hovers above him. His hands painfully grab his wrists to tuck Jae’s own into Brian’s face to examine them closer.

“Who was that?”

Jae pulls his hands harshly away, rubbing his wrists with a sour look on his face. “Watch it,” he warns Brian before he lets himself down on the loveseat in the middle of the room.

It feels so good not to be standing on his own feet anymore. Felix mimics him and plops down on the armchair opposite of him and Brian perches himself at the other end of where Jae sits.

“Haven’t you already heard the news?”

Brian and Felix glance at each other before they look back at Jae whose fingers try to make something out of his matted hair, only for him to give up with a heavy sigh.

“Some men crashed into Dowoon’s bar and opened fire. About nine or ten of our men are dead.”

“And you were there when it happened?” Felix chokes while he learns forward in interest.

Jae only nods and slides down the couch until his head can rest against the backrest, his eyes close in peace.

“What did they want?” The boy asks again and Jae only shrugs with his shoulders. The million-dollar question, isn’t it?

Jae only hears some shuffling and then feels the seat dipping down under the weight that settles next to him, and suddenly someone puts his fingers against his chin and turns his head around. Jae opens his eyes again and sees Brian examining the cut on his cheek, his other hand coming up to trail a path under it.

“Did they hurt you?” It’s only a hoarse whisper from Brian but it’s so loud in Jae’s ears. The warmth against his cheek is comforting, the caresses reminding him of times where he hadn’t had to think about killing men and selling drugs, and somehow it feels like everything that Jae craves for now. “Did you get hit?”

“No,” Jae slurs and lets himself fall into the warmth of the hand, his undamaged cheek leaning into the open palm. He is so tired suddenly. “Dowoon pushed me out of range and I got knocked into the bar shelf.”

“Nothing else?”

He shakes his head. Brian’s other hand comes up to cradles his neck and to play with the strands of his hair. Jae decides he never wants to be anywhere else again. This is the best place on earth. Here he feels like on top of the world, colors vibrant and full, like a kiss from the bright sun after a rainy night. The waves of the ocean lightly moving.

He slowly opens his eyes and sees the blurry image of Younghyun in front of him, his face near enough to get into focus. It takes a few seconds before the blurry view sharpens and Jae takes a sharp breath at the intensity of Younghyun’s look. His eyes are half-closed, and his mouth dipped in a worried frown, yet his eyes that are so dark glimmer with so much warmth and color that it steals his breath. He feels his heart beating in his throat, only content to feel as his mind isn’t able to catch up.

“Ugh, you guys are so disgusting!”

Suddenly, Jae’s mind does catch up with what is going on and he promptly jumps in his seat, his face gone from Brian’s hands and dunked in a deep shade of red. Felix still pulls a face at the scene and pretends to throw up.

“If you need a private moment, I can go home. Just give me a signal or a warning before you jump at each other.”

“No one’s jumping anyone here,” Jae bites back and crosses his arms over his chest. Right. He needs to stay focused. Luckily, Felix’s exaggerated retching woke him up enough to pay attention to his surroundings.

Jae clears his throat to disperse of the strange atmosphere. “I’m here for other reasons.”

He leans further back into the loveseat as the tiredness washes over him more and more. Of only he could sleep now and never wake up again. His new position makes him even more aware of the gun poking at his spine and that quite uncomfortably so. Jae reaches behind him, pulls it out and throws it between him and Brian on the seat. He hears the sharp inhale on his left and ignores it to stare forward into Felix’s eyes.

“What have you done with the boy in the cellar?”

Felix is good at hiding things. He looks innocent and young and many people underestimate him (that’s why Jae had told Brian to hire him), but he isn’t as good as Jae. Even in his tired state he sees something changing in Felix’s face for a blink of a second. Jae now regrets the tiredness even more as his mind can’t connect the dots properly.

“Let him free as you told us to.”

It isn’t Felix though who has answered him, it’s Brian. Good old Brian whom Jae can’t read like a book and will always stay a mystery to him. Felix is his safest bet to get something out of this conversation.

“No, really, what have you done to him?”

Felix plays with his fingers, his pointer pushing the ring on his other hand around. A small tick that indicates he is nervous about something.

“We told him not to come back anymore and that’s it.” Felix’s voice doesn’t waver, and his face doesn’t twitch at all, his finger is still playing with the ring though.

“Why are you asking?” Brian is pushing. He is trying to turn the game around and to get something out of Jae, but not with him. Jae has been fucked around with too much and he is even more pissed about that than anything else.

“Because I want to know what you have done to the boy.” He has finally turned his head to Brian and challenges him with a glare as Brian opens his mouth. “And don’t even think about lying to me.”

“We aren’t lying, hyung,” Felix tries calmly again and when Brian smiles innocently to it, Jae loses his shit.

“Don’t bullshit me! A fucking hitman spoiled my brunch because you guys can’t do what you’ve been told to!”

“A fucking what?” Felix gasps at the same time as Brian sits up and echoes Felix’s words.

His hands rub his face while he groans deeply, his patience running thin. “Is Jeon Jeongguk ringing a bell? Huh?”

“You said he’s only a normal kid,” Felix accuses him bristly and earns a nasty glare from Brian and Jae, but then Brian nods and faces back to Jae.

“Well, he wasn’t, alright?” He can’t tell them that he knew about Kai’s identity. He shouldn’t have told them about Jeongguk, too. His brain to mouth filter isn’t working right now, he has to think too much about what to say or not. The frustration that rises up isn’t helping with it. “And even though, what have you done to the kid that he hadn’t returned home?”

The silence that ensues him is enough of an answer.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Please tell me he isn’t dead.”

He slumps forwards to lean against his hands resting on his knees, whining into the comforting darkness. If Kai is really dead, Jeongguk will be hunting him down and torture him to death. Not even Wonpil could save him then. He should change addresses. What is the safest place in Seoul? No, what is the safest place in the world? Antarctica? He hates the cold. This is bullshit, utter and fucked up bullshit.

“He isn’t dead.” And isn’t this the best message of the day? “But we may have added a few more wounds to the one we’ve already done to him.” No, forget about it. This is the worst.

“Fucking shit,” Jae mutters before he straightens up in his seat and looks directly into Felix’s eyes, “Can you take care of that? Find him and bring him home, please? I don’t want to have any trouble with Bangtan.”

“I’m already on it.”

The door closes softly behind Felix and Jae is suddenly left alone with Brian. He is too tired to think about it. Too tired for the intense gaze, too tired for the finger that is touching his neck and caressing the blue and black spots trailing down to his shoulder, too tired with the goosebumps on his skin, enjoying the feeling too much.

Luckily, Brian doesn’t get to begin the sentence he is starting to form when the door slams open again and an agitated Chan rushes to the armchair Felix has just sat in.

“I heard what had happened and— you look like shit!”

Best greeting ever. Hopefully his dead-stare conveys all the bad feelings he has for Chan right now.

“Sorry, hyung, it’s just— I’ve never seen you so beaten up before.”

Okay, he has saved himself. But he is lucky that Brian’s finger is too distracting for Jae to think of a witty comeback. He should cut straight to business and save them all some time.

“How’s my drug stash?”

Brian’s finger stills just for a moment before it goes back to the motion, Jae’s mind taking a quick note on it but doesn’t dwell too much on it. Chan’s sheepish smile dampens his mood too much for any observing skills.

“We got the fire under control so that the warehouse is still intact.”

“The stash?”

“All gone.”

He can’t groan again. There must be a limit to how much groaning he can do in one scene. Instead, he falls back and sighs in defeat, giving up on any good things happening today. But hey, there’s that silver lining which reminds him of—

“Dowoon told me something interesting.” Does he imagine the sudden tension in the room? No, he can clearly see the tension in Chan’s shoulders. Maybe Jae has to teach him some basic bluff skills to not give it away so quickly. Or maybe not because Jae suddenly realizes, he is being lied to again. “But you already know, don’t you?”

The finger abruptly pushes harder into his skin and Jae pulls away, accidently turning from Chan towards Brian, sees the other’s blank face eyeing him, a quick and insincere smile quirking up his lips as Jae scowls at him.

“I’m sorry, hyung, I only got informed about the tainted drugs after they’d burnt down. If I’d known about it, I wouldn’t have sold them at all.” At least Chan looks apologetic and nothing indicates that he is still lying.

It still doesn’t answer his questions though. “But why were the ones you gave me completely alright? You told me they’re from the new batch and they were pretty good quality.”

“You’ve taken the drugs?”

The finger completely halts the motion on his neck even before Brian has piped up. Even Chan is looking at him as if a second head grew out of his neck. Why is everyone so taken aback at his admission? Can’t he do drugs without being judged for it? He is the drug lord of their mob, for god’s sake. What kind of businessman is he if he doesn’t get a taste of his own products?

(All lies, his mind cries.)

“Why not?” He snaps and pouts and wow, he can see why Sungjin calls him childish and salty.

“I thought you want them for Wonpil-hyung,” Chan admits still dumbfounded.

His mind kindly throws him back to last night with Wonpil in his bed, the joint lit between their fingers, the smoke travelling between their mouth, the sweet line of white powder beautiful on tanned skin. His hand subconsciously rubs at the spots where Brian’s finger is still resting to remember the sweet kisses and bites Wonpil showered his body with.

“Ah, I’ve been wondering if those were from the shooting or not.” Brian’s finger vanishes from his neck quickly. “Since when’s Wonpil back?”

“Mad that he hasn’t called you to meet up?” Jae retorts, which was totally uncalled for by the flabbergasted gazes of Chan and Brian. He heaves a heavy sigh before he admits that yes, he did come back last night.

“And he wasn’t with you when were you at Dowoon’s?”

It is unusual to hear Brian’s voice rising so angrily. He even looks irritated, and his hands are balled into fists as if he wants to punch the next best thing. What the hell?!

“Why should he? I already told you, I don’t need a babysitter.”

As if Brian has the right to get angry at Wonpil not having been by his side. Is that how he wants to argue now with Jae? Is he serious?

“You need protection! Do you even listen to yourself?”

No, nope, no. Jae doesn’t take any shit from Brian. He is joking, he must be joking.

“Do _you_ even listen to yourself? I’m not a fucking princess that some shady men want to kidnap!”

“No, they want to _kill_ you, you idiot!”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Brian Kang, I’m your superior in case you forgot.”

Brian outright ignores his warning.

“You were in a shooting today! And before that, a hitman threatened you! Oh, and the kingpin of Seoul surprised you with a dead body in your own house! Do I have to continue?!”

Any other time, Jae would be laughing at how red Brian gets in the face when he is really angry. Any other time, Jae would be the better man and let the comments slide. Any other time, well, Jae would be giving in to his urges and suck the breath out of Brian’s lungs. This isn’t any other time, though. This is Jae with much pent-up anger and resentment, this is Jae who has probably shot a man to death.

“Whose fault is it that I’m in this shit?!”

Naturally, this is what shuts Brian up. Jae is heaving as if his admission has been hard (which, yes, it has been) and the tension rises immensely between them. The silence is deafening and weighs down hard on their shoulders.

It is Chan who then disrupts it gently by clearing his throat and shuffling towards the door.

“I probably should… yeah.”

He even closes the door gently. A soft click yet so loud in the room.

It’s tiring. Their whole thing, them, it’s tiring for Jae. That negative flux of emotion that always comes with the exciting and prickling feeling, it drains him mentally and emotionally every day. It is worse when he has to see Brian, especially during the time that he visits him from night to night. Just knowing that he has been so near and within reach made him so far away at the same time.

Jae leans forward again and buries his head between his arms, his last resort to shield him from Brian’s everything. His whole existence probably.

“Jaehyung, I’m—”

“Don’t,” Jae slides in sharply, “I don’t want to hear it. Not again.”

He knows him too well. He knows Brian’s… Younghyun’s deepest core. That gentleness, a kind and caring man who watches out for the people around him and plays music with so much passion, only to get shy and embarrassed when someone steals a look at the poems and lyrics written in the margins of his notebook. He knows Younghyun only means well and wants the best for the other people around him.

It just made the reality crash into him so much harder when he had learnt that Younghyun can also be harsh, ruthless and cold. Jae has only known what he was getting into when he was already in too deep. He has been blind and still is, isn’t he? Trying so hard to tear those sides apart because he can never accept that Brian and Younghyun are the same person; the one that held his heart softly in his hands and the one that let it rot on the ground.

Jae presses his fists deeply into his eyes to get that frustration out of him. He wants to let it go, all of it and let things finally be. It’s so hard, isn’t it?

“I’m tired,” Jae breathes into the silence, “I’m so tired.”

And he knows that he should push him away when Younghyun slides his arm around his shoulders to pull him against his chest, his hand that places Jae’s head into his neck and cradles the strands of his hair. He feels the warmth of lips atop of his hair, pressing a soft kiss into it, whispers getting lost in between.

“I know,” his voice quietly says, “I’m tired, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Track 5: This is crazy, I’m having a vision, oh my Jesus  
> and the introduction of one Sammy ;)


	5. Track 5: This is crazy, I’m having a vision, oh my Jesus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title this time from Day6 - Hunt
> 
> Happy 3rd Birthday, MyDays!!!!
> 
> And a short heads up, panic attack in this chapter! Once again, pls read the tags!

Jae doesn’t have many passions in his life but it’s enough for him. He is a simple man who thrives less on social contact and more on music.

Sometimes, that he can admit, it feels good to share music with the people he likes, a pleasure he couldn’t indulge in during his outcast life in high school. Now though, all the doors are open to him.

Ever since high school, Jae has decided to cast away that loser version of himself and to become someone people genuinely want to hang out with. And he was successful. Jae has not only found friends with whom he can chill out, learn or joke around with, no, there were even people who shared his passion with music between them.

It’s because of one of his friends that he is out on a Friday night and on his way to a small pub with an open mic night. The streets of LA are busy as always, even on late evenings and all throughout the night.

Sammy, one of his best friends and roommate, has found a flyer hanging on a notice board advertising for an open mic night. Sammy, music running through his veins, urged Jae to come with him and check out the pub. Maybe they, too, could play once there. Jae has been hesitant at first because Friday nights are movie nights with Hajoon, but Sammy’s face was so bright and full of hope, Jae couldn’t say no.

Here he is at the entrance and staring up at the small neon sign flickering in the dark, small drops of rainwater sliding down the tube and falling to the floor. Sammy is holding the door open and waits for Jae to finally move, a smile brightening up his face. He can hear music thrifting out through the door, the gentle thrums of guitar strings forming a pleasant melody. Jae instantly feels the excitement building in his chest.

It’s beautiful inside, warm and cozy, the lights dimmed, and tables lit up with candles. It isn’t big, only a few tables littered in front of the stage where about four people could fit on, currently a guy playing an acoustic version of _shape of you_.

They are lucky as one table is getting free just as they walk in, and Sammy rushes over to take place in the chair. Jae pushes his jacket off and shakes his head to get rid of the wetness clinging to it. Eventually sitting in the chair and Sammy already gone to get two bottles of beer, Jae cleans his glasses and puts them gently on his nose to finally watch the man playing with a fierce passion and fire in his eyes.

Just when Sam returns to the table, the guy finishes and a loud round of applause fills the pub. Jae joins in with a beam at Sammy, then they clink their beers together and cheer for the best.

It should be a nice night to think back to. It _is_ a night Jae thinks back to a lot of the time. More often than he wants to. Not because it has been nice of Sammy to get him out of the house and show him what the world can offer, more because of what the world has offered him that night.

Maybe that’s why he is dreaming about it now. Because here is where it has begun, where Jae somehow felt like he is on top of the world, only for him to wake up beneath the city’s dark alleys.

As the night progresses and Jae and Sammy converse lightly about their wishes to play once live on that stage, a young man enters with his guitar and sits gently down at the stool. He squirms around and clears his throat, a heavy breath before he starts to talk.

Jae is too invested in his conversation with Sammy, doesn’t watch the stage or listens to the greeting. It is only when Sammy nods towards the stage and motions to be quiet that Jae shuts up and angles his body forward, his fingers tapping in anticipation for the boy to start. Said boy finally rises his head completely and lets his gaze sweep over his audience. Jae thrums in excitement. He wants to hear the voice. He wants to hear what his soul can play.

Because that young man on stage is plain beautiful. His long, blond-dyed hair falls into his eyes, his sharp and fox shaped eyes with pupils so deep and dark. Jae could wax poems about the rest of his face and his whole outfit, but his mind doesn’t have the time as the show is about to start.

“I’m going to sing something I composed myself. It’s still a bit rough but… yeah,” he clears his throat again and positions himself to play, his eyes widening as he forgot something. “It’s called _I would_ by the way. Just, so you know.”

It takes more than a few notes for Jae but less than two words to know that he is in love. The song catches him off-guard, beautiful and filled with so much regret, a voice so sad and depressed. His heart flutters harder and harder, and his lips form the lyrics during the chorus to feel the connection.

His breath gets caught when their eyes meet and suddenly, it’s only them in the room. Only Jae and this foreign man playing song for song and somewhere along the way, he starts to play only for him.

Sammy teases him then every Friday night because Jae looks at that singer with stars in his eyes and is too shy to talk to him afterwards. Their gazes meet through the pub and Jae decides he has to try. He has taken all his courage together but when he is finally at the bar, he is gone. Frustrating, like a game of cat and mouse, but Jae is trapped in a melody he never knew he longed for, and it destroys him every week so much.

Until that one day it hasn’t been stranger boy on the stage but Jae with his guitar. Jae has come with a mission and he really hopes that stranger boy is listening to his song. His own song. Jae has been exercising the whole week to get the riff, writing down the Korean words his mother has helped him to make sense of.

Has it been good enough? Could he hear him?

“I never thought someone would cover my song. It feels like I reached a milestone with my music. So, thank you for that. It was beautiful.”

The first words he has spoken to him, they engraved themselves in his mind to rest there forever, a memory so sweet and haunting. Jae smiles at him, bright and shy, his heart doing somersaults and butterflies erupting through his gut.

“Thank you, Brian. It’s such a beautiful song, I couldn’t help myself. I was hoping that maybe… we can finally meet each other when I play it. I- I’m Jae, by the way.”

The smile that Brian gives him is a blessing. He has always been smiling, kind and gently, but now, his eyes are grinning, open and shy and so happy. So beautiful.

“And nice to meet you at last, Jae.”

It’s just them, Jaehyung and Younghyun, standing in front of the other in a pub amidst of Los Angeles, their hearts beating loudly in their chests and music filling their souls with gentle melodies. The world around them is blurred out, nothing else matters, only them, there, right now.

But here is the thing with memories: they are unreliable to a fault, especially if they are just that – dreams. It is only a fleeting thought before everything dips into darkness. Younghyun has never played that song on stage. Jae hasn’t even heard of it before.

With a sharp breath, Jae starts from his sleep and winces in pain when the wounds scattered all over his arms stretch apart. He slowly lies back into the bed, taking the time to wake up. He is still so tired, his eyes falling close again and again. He notices the soft cushion beneath his body and the warm blanket over him, a bed where he hasn’t been before. The room is dark, the only light source shining through the window on the other wall. He stares through the window, a balcony he thinks, and tries to make sense of the blurred form there.

A melody played on a guitar, a beautiful voice singing deep and high, words full of sadness and regrets, about thinks he would and wants, a heart so yearning and full of desire.

It’s hurting him. His skin itches, his wounds hurt, his mind is still slow. He slowly slips away into a slumber, the melody stops, and the faint noise of steps reach his ears, his senses abruptly filled with smoke and a vanilla scent, a cold hand caressing his temple. The motion does it for him to eventually nod off again into a dreamless sleep, not before he feels the press of warm and push lips against his forehead.

~~~

When Jae awakes again, it’s to the fresh memory of moans, hot touches and hands pressing down on his throat. He stirs awake with a loud groan, his skin dipped in sweat, and pants unbearably hot and tight. His dick is twitching hard and demands to be taken care of, something Jae’s brain still hasn’t caught on.

He rakes his hands through the blanket around him and kicks it off in need of fresh cold air. His eyes open slowly to take in the room. It isn’t his. The bed is softer, the blankets thinner and less pillows than he owns. It’s comfortable, nonetheless.

The walls are colored in bright blue and gray, dark wooden shelves lining up on the opposite side, books, stacks of papers, plants and pictures taking up place in it.

The realization sets in slowly but not surprisingly as it triggers his memory of him falling asleep last night right in Brian’s arms, and this must be Brian’s very own bedroom. It’s small and neat, decorated with a sense of home and style, something Brian put his own soul into.

Jae sighs as he turns his head towards the windows and pinches his eyes at the bright light filtering in.

A balcony. It’s small and the view isn’t anything special, just a normal apartment view amidst of Seoul. High up but not the highest, deeply grounded and yet above the city.

A sweet melody plays in his mind, drops of a memory slowly dripping into the dark sea. He remembers dreaming about a song being played on a guitar and a voice singing longingly and full of regrets. Listening feels like drowning, a sea dark and deep, the shallow nowhere seen, only the deep end behind him.

Jae shifts in his position, his hand pressing down on his erection to relief a bit of the aching urge, a small sigh leaving his lips and an involuntary arch of his neck.

Same thing as always; Jae dreams of hot nights, awakes painfully hard with a strong desire to fall apart by the hands of his (past) lover. Sometimes he ignores it, sometimes he takes care of it under the freezing water of a shower. Just yesterday he had Wonpil taking matters into his hands, literally.

His hand falls to his side, Jae isn’t at home, so ignoring it is.

He is still sleepy to this hour, he doesn’t even know which hour it is, his mind slow and not catching up with his surroundings. It’s too late to take note of the opening door and the nearing steps; and honestly, why should he be worried about it anyways?

“Oh, you’re awake.”

The voice sounds breathless and deep, and the owner stands in the doorstep to the room, not sure if he should enter or not. Jae watches the blurred figure lazily and waits for something to happen, pressing his cheek further into the pillow when the tiredness washes over him again. His skin itches everywhere, his cheek the worst, and his hard dick is still bothering him.

Oh.

Maybe that’s why Brian is rooted to the spot. Jae has kicked the blanket off, is only in his boxers and the way he is lying on the bed, he figures that it’s not very hard to miss.

“Had a good night?” Brian asks amused.

Is the situation awkward? Maybe. He doesn’t know. He is still sleepy. Maybe that’s why he does it; purring and smiling dozily at Brian. He even tries to nestle his cheek deeper into the bed, much like a cat. A very playful cat.

“I heard someone playing a song on a guitar,” Jae purrs and angles his body slightly towards Brian. His dick twitches at the sharp intake of breath.

Brian takes a cautious step forward. “Sorry, if I woke you up.”

“I thought—” Jae mumbles and darts his tongue out to wet his lips, “—that you don’t play the guitar anymore.” Brian eyes follow the movement of his tongue.

“I felt like it. Sorry, again, if I’ve disturbed you last night.”

Jae fully rolls onto his side and leans his head on his hand, a smile forming his eyes into crescents. He feels playful and he likes to see Brian breaking a sweat and holding back his twitching fingers. It is just like hunting a prey.

“You didn’t. I only dreamt about it. It was a nice… dream.” His voice drops a few octaves deeper and the darkness in Brian’s eyes grows thicker.

“What did you dream about?”

“About lips sucking on my neck,” he whispers as he leans up and bares his neck, littered with black and blue marks. “About my hot skin burning with those touches.” His hand skitters down to his crotch, tugging playfully at his dick. Brian gulps heavily and shuffles forward. “About hands making me come undone.”

At this point, Brian stands directly in front of his bed and looks down at Jae with those intense eyes, a darkness hoods his eyes broken by the self-confidence mirrored in the worried lines of his face. He needs a last push, something that makes him more than bringing his knee down on the mattress.

Jae leans further up towards Brian, his voice only a whisper when he says, “I dreamt about you.”

Something switches within both of them. Brian suddenly surges forward into the bed and Jae clamps a hand on his face to steer it away from his lips and towards his neck. Brian’s hands grab his waist hard but careful not to prod at any wounds, and his lips latches onto the skin of neck, sucking and biting at the already existing hickeys.

Every kiss, every bite, every suck jolt through Jae’s body like electricity, all the blood rushing towards his already hot and bothered crotch. Jae whines at every new contact and lets his hands wander over Brian’s— over Younghyun’s body, the shirt crumbles beneath his fingers and he grips hard when Younghyun finds that sweet, sweet spot beneath his ear. The loud moan that comes spurs Younghyun to completely hover over Jae, their crotches finally pressing against each other.

“I hate seeing those and knowing they’re not from me,” he whispers against his neck, the rush of air making his skin erupting in goosebumps. A tongue laps out and presses hard against the hickeys, the pain rushing through Jae’s vein like sweet hot liquid. “You’re mine, Park Jaehyung.”

Younghyun then presses down his crotch to rub their erections together. The friction mixed with the possessive voice of Younghyun is too much for Jae’s mind, and he feels like losing it. He feels himself crumbling apart under the roaming touches of Younghyun’s hand, and nothing else matters when they find the hem of his boxers and dip down to grab his ass hard, squeezing and massaging and pressing his body further into Younghyun’s. Jae spreads his legs apart and joins them behind Younghyun’s back, creating a rhythm of their humping by pulling himself towards it.

He feels Younghyun’s erection against his own, the hot friction not satisfying enough through the layers of clothes they both have on. Younghyun’s jeans is grating against his skin of his thighs and the belt presses uncomfortably into his belly. Jae reaches down with shaking hands and hears Younghyun’s breath hitch when he tugs the belt off and fumbles with the zipper, opening up the pants and pushing it down to his thighs, the skin burning hot under his fingertips.

It’s better, so much better without the pants in the way but Jae wants more. So much more. He’s impatient and wets his lips, sees Younghyun’s eyes fixated on his mouth and feels the loud groan of the other making his cock twitch and leak even more. When Younghyun begins to lean down, his heart stops for a moment and anticipation settles in, Jae even is about to push his head up to meet the lips with his own; but then he realizes the implications of a kiss and panics hard.

Their movements halt completely in that moment and another kind of tension rises between them. Younghyun’s eyes are doubled in their size and his eyebrows furrows. Jae pretends he can’t see the hurt in them and presses his hand harder against Younghyun’s mouth, swallowing hard before he says, “Don’t even try to do that. What happens here doesn’t mean anything. Not for me.”

The seconds tick by and Jae thinks their hot moment is over by the way Younghyun’s face falls, but then the other licks against his palm, he fucking licks against it and Jae pulls it away in disgust.

“Did you just lick my palm?!”

Younghyun only grins cheekily at him and pushes him higher over Jae to lean his forehead against Jae’s. “What about it? There’s no part of yours that I haven’t licked before.” He even has the audacity to laugh when Jae’s cheeks redden at the memories of Younghyun’s tongue exploring the most private parts of his body.

He is about to retort something when Younghyun pushes his hips hard against Jae’s, both moaning in sync when their erections rub against each other.

“You need to learn when to shut up, chicken little,” Younghyun scolds him before he nibbles along his jaw and squeezes his ass cheeks between his hands.

“Don’t call me that, _Brian_.”

Younghyun’s hand pull off his boxers in one moment and the next his mouth takes his dick in with the same smoothness as before. Jae’s back arches off the mattress and his moans gets stuck in his throat at the wet heath engulfing his cock.

“Shit, Brian,” Jae groans and pushes his hands into Younghyun’s hair who suddenly lets his dick smack back against his stomach and stares hard at him.

“Call me by my real name,” he tells Jae with a warning undertone.

Jae, stubborn as hell, sneers back at him, “Try me.”

“It’s not my dick that is about to get sucked off.”

Foul play. Really mean foul play. And yet, it brings a smile on Jae’s face and even a small giggle leaves his mouth at the familiarity of the situation.

“Okay, okay,” Jae breathes between his giggles, “you won, Younghyunie.”

Younghyun beams sweetly at him for a few seconds, their gazes strongly linked together and neither too keen on breaking the moment. Eventually, the darkness returns to Younghyun’s eyes and he dives back in, his tongue lapping at the precum on his tip.

It’s hard to think when he is falling apart at Younghyun’s mouth licking every inch of his length, it’s hard not to fall deeper into a pit of darkness with every kiss along his dick, it’s hard to exactly pinpoint the moment when the chaos in Jae’s mind turns into something sweet with every deep suck.

Along all of those things unraveling in his mind it isn’t hard to completely give all of his being into the hands of the man devoting every ounce of his passion to him. Being with Younghyun is a place of harmonic order, always has been, because with him it’s never a push and pull, it’s all about give and take.

From the moment on they have met, Jae has been ready to give him everything, from his attention to his heart, and Younghyun has taken it all with such warmth and caring hands. It hasn’t stopped there, Younghyun has done the same for Jae; from giving him all his attention and all of his being and Jae took it all in, quite desperate for finally being acknowledged as a wonderful human being.

It’s a beautiful feeling that pumps through his veins, an equilibrium created by their devotion to each other in a space where puzzle pieces fit in perfectly, and Jae drowns in the knowledge that once, this man has been everything. His breath, his blood, his life; all of it Jae has given and held in his own hands at the same time. Jae drowns in a feeling of deep pleasure, deep into swirls of colors like fireworks firing off in his minds.

He can feel the warmth building in his gut, and he wants to come so much, his thighs trembling under Younghyun’s hands. His moans turn into sounds of desperation as he chases his orgasm and Younghyun doesn’t let him, doesn’t give him the freeing satisfaction he anticipates for such a long time now.

No, he even pushes up and away from Jae’s swollen red dick and leans over to his face, their foreheads touching even while Jae whines at the loss. Younghyun’s hands skim over his body, fleeting and not really touching, and Jae hates it with every fiber of his body. Younghyun’s lips graze his ears, his breath tickles at his sensitive skin and his voice is hoarse and no less than a whisper when he says,

“Look at me, Jaehyung.”

Jae never could withstand Younghyun’s pleading commands, not when they are spoken with such emotions in his voice. Opening his eyes feels like his biggest mistake and the best thing in his life at the same time, especially when their gazes meet and… Jae lacks the words to describe it. To describe the swirling colors in Younghyun’s eyes, the darkness and light dancing around in freckles, what feeling could it be? Could it be—

His whole body tenses up, his back in a wonderful arch, his skin dipped with sweat running down his body, his mouth opened with that quiet groan that is stuck in his throat; but his eyes never close, not when he throws his head into his neck, not when Younghyun’s hand grabs his dick starts to jerk him off, not when his other hand grasps his throat and squeezes tight.

He can’t breathe and tears collect in his eyes, running down on his sides. That warmth in his gut explodes with burning fire, the deep end swallowing him entirely, and Jae finally lets go as his orgasm washes over him and pearls of white liquid shoot onto his chest. Not once does he close his eyes, the sight of Younghyun’s open mouth, tensed jaw and half-closed eyes such a pleasure to look at.

Coming down is like a white noise, both catching their breath while their minds are still blank. Younghyun’s head leans cautiously down until their noses touch and his body follows, gradually easing down until they’re flush together, touching everywhere.

Jae puts his hands around Younghyun’s head, softly cradling his jaw and neck between them, and his thumb glides along his cheek. Their eyes are fixated on their lips, getting closer and closer while they still try to come down from their high. Their mouth brushes against each other and suddenly, Jae is aware of that thin line he is about to cross, a thin thread that is about to snap.

All that he can think about is the image of him lying on the ground in a side street of Seoul, the rain pattering down on him while his hands press hard against his eyes and his body shudders with the hard sobs pouring out of his mouth.

He feels the moment Younghyun makes up his mind in how his muscles shift to further lean down, but Jae can’t and pushes Younghyun away, then rolls on his side to hide his face. Maybe even to hide from Younghyun’s face. He presses his eyes close and hopes his body doesn’t shake as hard as he believes it to. He hears the deep sigh from behind him and feels Younghyun’s arm sliding around his waist and his face pushing into his neck. They lie like that in crushing silence.

“Did you mean it?”

Jae doesn’t know where those words come from within him and he doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer. There is something pushing hard against his chest, harder than his fast heartbeat, harder than that tight feeling around his stomach. It makes him push his head deeper into the pillow, pressing his eyelids harder together.

“The song, did you mean it?” he even elaborates when nothing comes from Younghyun. “That you would change everything if you could go back?”

His heartbeat fills the silence between them, thump thump, before he feels the press of lips against his hair and a deep sigh following it.

“Every word.”

When Jae opens his eyes again after Younghyun’s confession, he’s gone. The press of lips in his hair, the arm around his waist, the soothing body behind his. All that is left is an open door and Jae to deal with the black abyss by himself.

~~~

Jae checks his phone again when he enters his elevator and winces at the eight missed calls from Wonpil and even more so when he sees the fifteen missed calls from Sungjin. The day has long started and it’s nearing afternoon right now.

Jae has just arrived from Brian’s home. Brian, not so surprisingly, lives near his casino and has been long gone when Jae has left the confinement of the bedroom. He has had the whole car ride back home to sort through his feelings, a.k.a. shove everything that has happened into a box deep into the pits of his mind.

From Wonpil’s message he gathers that the hitman is waiting for him in his apartment and Jae is very desperate for a change of clothes. His current outfit consists of clothes he has stolen from Brian’s closet and are not really the right fit for him. He is just glad that Brian owns an oversized sweater and some sweatpants that he can wear, and Jae realizes he might look like he is doing the walk of shame. Which he totally isn’t, nope.

Jae groans und hits his head against the wall. This is so messed up. Wonpil needs to take one look at him and then knows because he is not only wearing Brian’s clothes but also has a new huge hickey under his ear, a spot that no one is actually allowed to suck at because it resurfaces memories he doesn’t want to think of when he is with someone else except for, well, Brian. Hopefully his other wounds distract Wonpil from it since they distract Jae from everything else. Why are they so itchy, ugh!

The elevator arrives and opens his doors and the heavy smell of the sea hits Jae’s nose.

Oh. No.

Dread settles into his stomach as he sets the paper bag with his old clothes down on the floor and inches forward into the open-spaced living room, the scent getting stronger. Now he even hears the soft chattering of two people, one distinctively being Wonpil and the other hopefully not the person he thinks he is.

“So, you just shot him in the head?”

Jae certainly feels like he wants to be shot in the head. Wonpil stirs what probably is some kind of soup in a pot and on the other side of the counter sits none other than Park Jinyoung with a glass of red wine in his hands.

“Ah, hyung, you’re back!”

Wonpil beams brightly at Jae until he realizes the state of his body. Even Jinyoung’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead.

“You look like you’ve got molested by a horde of vampires,” Jinyoung kindly comments on his appearance.

“Ah, there’s that thing I forgot about,” Jae tries to talk his way out, “I have unfortunately to leave you guys.”

He even has a foot out of the room until eventually Wonpil catches up and throws his arms around his neck. His lips meet Jae in a fleeting moment and Jae remembers to reciprocate the gesture at the last possible second, something Wonpil picks up on immediately. He looks up quizzically at Jae first, then returns back to the boiling pot.

“You have already been gone from Dowoon’s before I arrived there yesterday.”

The ghost of kisses on his neck. Hot touches trickling along his spine. The memories of a moan filled silence.

“I’ve promised Chan to meet him somewhere.”

If he can’t escape the conversation and Park Jinyoung’s curious glances, so he could very well sit at the counter as well. The smell of sea wafts through the air and the bubbling fills the tense silence. Wonpil hums quietly to the faint music in the background, his face blank and content. Jinyoung still stares at him over the rim of his glass.

Jae is about to say something about it but gets cut off by Wonpil’s careful observation.

“Have you finally slept with Younghyun-hyung?”

Jae chokes at literally nothing, Jinyoung snorts into his wine while Wonpil is taking out the salt to spice up the soup.

“Wonpil-hyung, I think that’s enough salt,” Jinyoung chides him with a wide grin behind his hand. “That soup’s probably more salt than water now.”

“Ah, you think so?” Wonpil takes a sip of his soup and shakes the spoon over the pot, staring hard at the soy sauce before adding a few spoons of it.

Jae is still flushing and looking flabbergasted at Wonpil before he shakes himself out of it. “What makes you think that I spent the night at Brian’s?”

“It’s the smell,” Jinyoung enlightens him with a cheeky grin and taps his nose as explanation, “You smell like smoke and casino.”

“And,” Wonpil adds much too excited, “you have a hickey under your ear.”

“I had business to do with Brian.” Jae starts pouting. “So, it was much easier to meet Chan there.”

“Hot business, eh?” Jinyoung chuckles.

“What the hell is he even doing here?”

Wonpil turns the stove off with the happy hum under his breath and completely ignores Jae’s exasperated outburst. He tastes a last time the soup and deems it as good enough to serve, then opens the cabinets to take out bowls and spoons. Jae has never felt so ignored in his life before. Is his life a joke to them?

At least Jinyoung acknowledges the plead for answers. “Wonpil was worried sick last night,” he starts and then sips at his wine, “So I decided to wait with him. Any idea who might be responsible for last night shootings?”

Oh.

Jae hasn’t thought about Wonpil at all, that he could be worried about him. He has been too preoccupied by the flood of his own problems and Brian’s fingers constantly touching him, as a result he is bound to let things slip his mind.

Now Jae feels bad about last night and especially about today’s morning. Wonpil always seems to be cool and calm at every situation but deep down, and that Jae knows from first-hand experience, Wonpil tends to worry about his dear friends.

Maybe an apologize and explanation are due. “Sorry, Wonpilie. It’s just, there was so much going on last night that I fell asleep in the casino.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Wonpil says blankly while filling other bowls with rice, “A shooting is always tiring after you come off the high of adrenaline.”

The soup is awfully salty, even with the rice, but Jae and Jinyoung eat it without bending their brows, smiling at Wonpil’s worrying glances when he himself notices how badly cooked it is.

“About the shooting,” Jae comes back to Jinyoung’s question between two slurps, “I have no idea. Never have seen them before and they were dead before we could question them.”

Jinyoung only hums in response and Jae watches his face closely. There is nothing that gives away what Jinyoung is thinking except for the badly hidden distaste for the soup. The smile’s too artificial. Wonpil in turn doesn’t try to hide that he dislikes what he has cooked, at the same time though, Jae sees that Wonpil has much to talk about. He glances at Jae too often and holds himself back to say anything, the rhythm tapping of his fingers giving Jae small signs.

“This reminds me, Jinyoung-ssi,” Jae starts again when the conversation has lulled, “can you tell me how I get ahold of Jackson? I’m trying for weeks now and it’s frustrating to get vague answers of when he will finally grace me with his presence.”

Jinyoung’s hand climbs up to his face to hide the grin that forms on his lips. It’s endearing at least to say, not that Jae feels like being mocked (he does because this whole mob is out to annoy the hell out of him, on top of it stands Jackson Wang).

“Cute that you think Jackson is coming to you.”

He certainly hasn’t needed Jinyoung’s snort behind his spoon and being spoken to as if he is a child.

Jae’s experience in meeting with Jackson amounts to a total sum of two. Five if you count the three meetings by chance. The other two only happened because he has been with Sungjin at those times though. So, meeting Jackson due to his own efforts equals zero.

“Maybe if I’m not being relegated to his assistant like an annoying girlfriend, it’ll be much easier. What is he, five?”

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have a PA, hyung,” Wonpil chips in teasingly, the smirk on his lips turning into a charming smile when Jae starts to pout at him. Jae is about to retort something but Wonpil beats him to it. “And Channie doesn’t count. He probably ignores and deletes the messages for you.”

That’s true. Many times now people complain to Jae that his assistant hasn’t reacted to their calls or that Jae is much too late in responding. In all of those cases, Chan has conveniently forgot to check his phone or mails or let Jae know about it. It’s a miracle that he has told him about Johnny Suh’s calls and messages.

“You’re approaching it from the wrong angle. If Jackson won’t come to you, you go to Jackson. Just turn the tables around.” Now he feels like an idiot since he could have figured that out by himself. It doesn’t help that Jinyoung is amused about it. “And here I thought I need to step up my game since you won Eric Nam over.”

“Ah,” Wonpil suddenly shouts, “That reminds me— hyung, that detective appeared yesterday in the club.”

“What did he want?”

“There was a shooting, duh,” Jinyoung kindly remembers him. Jae should throw him out if he is only here for comedic relief.

Wonpil, to Jae’s pleasure, ignores Jinyoung and goes on to recount Eric’s visit last night. “The police arrived on scene a bit later than us to check on the situation since a shooting _is_ unusual for the area. Nothing much happened, though, Dowoon and Sungjin had everything under control.” At least they don’t have to start worrying about the police putting their nose into their things. “But that inspector did ask for you as soon as he heard you were there.” He has spoken too soon.

Maybe that’s not too bad. His last meeting with Eric has been too long ago and he hasn’t heard from the officer since then. It’s confusing why people are congratulating him on winning over the detective when Jae feels like he hasn’t earned anything… yet. He already has planned to pay him a visit soon to check out the current situation.

A phone beeps that isn’t his or Wonpil’s (yes, he knows Wonpil’s ringtone by now because the cute tingle has burnt itself into Jae’s deepest mind due to a row of plings during one of their hotter times) and Jinyoung gets it out of his pocket in one swift motion, his lips turning up into a somewhat smile that is too snobbish.

“That should be your chance to seal the deal, Jae-hyung. And good thing that you don’t have to wait for too long.”

More often than not Jae forgets that he talks to _the_ Park Jinyoung, Im Jaebeom’s own sweet talker.

Meeting him for the first time, Jae has thought that Jinyoung was the least fitting person to fill that spot, especially with someone like Jackson or Bambam in Jaebeom’s inner circle. Now he knows better.

Jinyoung isn’t there to butter people up and sell them sweet little lies, he is there to turn their heads for his handsome face and lure them into believing that selling their souls to him is the best deal of their lives. Park Jinyoung is a dangerous man and upping him one up is a big win Jae’s books.

At the same time, Park Jinyoung is Wonpil’s good friend since middle school which means he sees the man more often than he would care for. The border between competition and a friendly face blurs with every other visit more and Jae needs to be careful. In the end, it does help that Jinyoung, even with being Wonpil’s friend, can’t drop the power play between him and Jae. His every visit has to end with a small jab at Jae to show that Jinyoung has the better cards and it doesn’t matter that Jae always has an ace up his sleeve.

Being Jaebeom’s most precious asset means Jinyoung has eyes and ears everywhere. He knows where people experience their greatest high in life and commit the worst sins that only death is the most appropriate punishment. Him knowing that Eric Nam suddenly exits the elevator in Jae’s apartment isn’t surprising at all.

Jae only hopes that some ears and eyes cherish money more than loyalty to their owner.

Eric Nam strides into the flat like he owns the very ground beneath him (and what is it with people walking around in his home like they’re his friends? How even did he get up here?)

The movement in his periphery makes him look over to Wonpil who subtly takes the knife out of the sink and holds it against his leg. Jae suddenly feels a shiver running down his spine. Hopefully it doesn’t come to another blood bath, he regrets now letting his gun in the paper bag next to the elevator.

“Sorry for intruding, Park Jaehyung-ssi,” the police inspector says as he arrives in the living room and glances around the room to assess the situation. “But I need your statement for the shooting last night in the Drum. I’ve been hoping to meet you alone.”

“That’s my cue to leave,” Jinyoung chirps too brightly and even pats Eric on the shoulder before leaving through the elevator.

Eric looks after the mobster and doesn’t stop until Jinyoung is out of sight, and Jae uses the moment to shoot Wonpil a cautious glance. His hand is tense around the knife like his jaw, his posture calm, nonetheless. Jae catches his eyes and motions with his open palm to back off but Wonpil is stubborn if it comes to Jae’s safety (a trait much appreciated but not really helpful in certain situations).

“Aren’t you guys like enemies?” Eric motions towards the elevator.

“Is this some Korean drama?” Yes, his mind helpfully supplies and supports it with flashbacks from last morning. “We are well-behaved Korean citizen who respect each other and don’t jump at each other’s’ throat just because we breath the same air.”

“Most times,” Wonpil adds dryly.

“Most times.” Jae folds his hands over his knee and smiles brightly at Eric, then switches to English to impress the other further with his charms. “You have questions about last night?”

If Eric is the assigned officer to last night’s incident, then maybe Jae can use it to find more information. Even better, maybe that is his chance to, as Jinyoung has said it, seal the deal and get Eric into his pocket. Jae is really in need of a third-party ally, someone who is loyal to him and only him, and if he is an inspector of Seoul’s police force, even better.

“Like I said, I was hoping to meet you here alone,” Eric nods at Wonpil, “otherwise I have to take you to the station to get your statement and something tells me that you won’t be down for that. You look like shit.”

He should make an appointment with Jamie to have a whole make-over if people continue to tell him how awful he looks. What, do they expect that he looks like Prince Charming after being shot at? The cut at his cheek itches badly now that he thinks about it. Just like his hands.

Back to the more pressing matters.

“Wonpil-ah,” Jae addresses the hitman behind him, “Can you check my black bag and make sure that everything’s in there?”

He doesn’t need to turn around to see Wonpil tensing and looking confused at him. Jae knows Wonpil understands enough English to know that Eric wants him gone; it’s the nature of his request that confuses him.

His black bag is hidden deeply in his closet behind a fake wall where a safe is guarding his most important possessions. It doesn’t contain much; he sometimes stores his drugs there when he has made an especially good deal, his passport and many fake identities stacked on a bunch of other important documents, money and jewelry, and last but not least, his black bag. The black bag has been a present by Wonpil back when he had entered the mob years ago and was intended as Wonpil’s hearty welcome. Jae has hated and still hates the bag with every fiber of his body but different from then, Jae now appreciates the guns and knives hidden in there.

It doesn’t mean that he uses or cares for them. Wonpil cleans and checks them from time to time because Jae deliberately neglects them— especially the magazines and the knives— and never mentions their existence. Even further, he doesn’t acknowledge their existence. It’s then no surprise that Wonpil is dumbfounded at Jae’s request to check on his personal weapon stash. It implicates so much that both Jae and Wonpil know it is completely out of character for him.

“Okay,” Wonpil eventually agrees and puts the knife down in the sink, then turns around to leave slowly.

It’s silent with only Wonpil’s steps audible through the thick air and neither Eric nor Jae refuse to break their eye-contact. It doesn’t take him long to reach the bedroom and the door closes softly behind him. Jae’s smirk never wavers. It’s Eric who breaks the eye contact to get a notebook and a pen out of his pockets.

“Okay,” the detective starts slowly, “Let’s start with what has happened yesterday at the Drum.” He motions for Jae to begin.

Jae licks his lips and stands from his seat to walk to the window. “Please have a seat, inspector Nam.”

“Thanks, I’m good.”

Jae takes in the view beneath him, people small like ants shuffle through the streets just like on every other normal day in Seoul. The sun shines down on them, warm and bright, the air smells faintly like summer and a lot like a dirty metropole.

“I’ve never had this view back home in L.A.” Jae turns back to the police detective, their gazes meeting again. Jae needs to play it well. “And yet I miss L.A. with every day more. The easy life, you know?”

Eric blinks and appears blank to Jae; his face doesn’t move an inch.

“You miss your home, too, right? What is Atlanta like? Or do you prefer Boston as your home?”

“I know what you’re trying, Jae Park,” Eric chides him and moves a few steps ahead to Jae, “Just how I know that Seoul decided I’m your new little bitch.”

“That’s not how I’d call it—”

“To be clear; I’m not your bitch and never gonna be. So, stop playing as if you’re my friend and answer my question.”

A feisty one. Jae likes him which puts a smile on his face. The feisty ones are the easiest to play.

“Alright, Mister police detective. You seem to be perfectly informed about our mobster business.”

Eric snorts. “People talk, Seoul talks. It’s hard not to listen.”

It shouldn’t be surprising that Eric knows what their kind is talking about; he himself is the topic being spoken about. It is interesting because the last police inspector— a rather incompetent and easy manipulative man who was deaf on both sides. He only has cared for the money and called it a day when Jae put a nice stash of bills on his desk.

“I entered Dowoon’s club in the evening, don’t ask me at which hour,” Jae eventually begins his story-time, “and have been sitting at the bar to wait for Dowoon. I talked to people—” Oh, he forgot about the card Ten has handed him before. “—and then Dowoon came out. Still have no idea how late it was. It’s dark in there but you probably already know that. Just then, two men stormed into the room, took one of the employees and shot her through the head. I saw that they were five men altogether, all dressed in the same black suit and same weapons, I think. Don’t know, I haven’t looked at their guns because they were shooting at me. I was crouching down with Dowoon, hiding from the men and let the security guards handle the situation.”

The scribble of the pen is loud in his ears, his own swallow even louder over the rapid heartbeat. The image of the man in front of him returns, his stomach pierced through with a bullet from Jae’s own weapon.

“Did you shoot with your own weapon?”

He licks his lips in nervousness and adverts his eyes back to the window.

“I don’t own one.”

Eric huffs in disbelief and rolls his eyes when Jae looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re Park Sungjin’s right hand. Only an idiot wouldn’t have a gun in your position.”

“Then you have no idea who I really am.”

His mind finally finds back on its tracks. It’s kind of hard to hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Now, he has the capacity to realize his new game plan for winning Eric Nam over.

“What, are you saying that you’re not like every other mobster?” Eric sniffs. He makes it too easy.

“Yeah, I’m different than all of those other girls out there.” His funny remark earns him a boyish grin from Eric. One point for Jae. “I don’t wanna say that I’m innocent, but I have never killed a person in my life.”

Until yesterday. Maybe. He isn’t sure. He doesn’t know if he is responsible for the death of his attacker, so it doesn’t count. It can’t count.

“Yeah, sure, if you say so.”

Jae doesn’t blame Eric for not believing him. Being a mobster comes with a lot of prejudices that Jae knows too well. He also knows too well that Jae doesn’t fit into the concept of that cliched mafia gangster who kills people just for fame and money. No, Jae was, is and will always be the misfit he is destined to be.

The smile is gone from Jae’s face and he sets all on this one card. He has to do this, not as Jae but as Jaehyung, that small boy being lost in a big city he has never been to before. “Look, let me be honest with you for a minute.”

“I hope you were honest before when you gave half of your statement.”

“Eric,” Jae addresses him directly and without any formality, no hyung or ssi or mister. Just Eric. It has its desired effect and Eric looks at him with his mouth firmly shut. “Some years ago, an ordinary and innocent college boy went to a bar and met the biggest mistake in his life. By biggest mistake I mean that this guy meant bad news. Very bad news because suddenly, college boy is being chased down by L.A.’s most dangerous street gang members. This boy is abruptly faced with the most difficult question of his life: How do you survive this situation?”

His hands begin to tremble when his mind flashes back to the moment he met Sungjin for the first time. The streets of Los Angeles have always been the brightest during the night. The neon lights of the bar reflected in the many windows of the neighborhood and the streetlamps brighter than the stars in the sky. There have never been stars to see back home, a fact Jae is painfully aware of. Even though the streets of LA are the brightest during the night, they have never lived up to the light of hope that Sungjin brought him that night.

Park Sungjin who is neither a sweet talker nor the salesman of the devil. That night for Jae, Sungjin was a fallen angel, darker than the blackest shadows, brighter than the most vivid lights.

Jae calmly sits down in his chair to hide the tremble in his knees, to play with the bottle of whiskey and the tumbler next to it. The bottle is still sitting there from the night Namjoon has broken into his flat. Now Jae thirsts after the burn down his throat to get rid of that tight feeling squeezing his chest.

“Park Sungjin said to me, on one fateful night, that there are only two choices: Run away as fast as you can and live forever in the fear that those men are hunting you down.” The tumbler is suddenly half filled in his hands and finds its way to his mouth, the first sip burning on his tongue. The whiskey runs down his throat like honey, slowly reaching his stomach to light a fire inside him.

“Or you do the best thing you can do in this situation. Join the mob and live a peaceful life far away from those who hurt you. Guess what decision I’ve made.”

The glass is empty when he swallows the whole thing in one down. Eric is staring intensely at him, finally has sat down opposite of him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you? Live peacefully, I mean,” are his first words after he contemplated over Jae’s little story.

“What do you think? I don’t carry around a loaded weapon and never have killed a person during my time here in Seoul. Yet…” Jae strays off to emphasize the point he wants to get across. “I haven’t had a peaceful night ever since then.”

It’s hard to suppress the fast blinking when he is nervous, especially when he feels vulnerable. Jae hasn’t lied a word about what he’s told Eric in hopes to get him hooked. Jae needs him. He really needs him as an ally.

The silence looms thickly around them and their gazes never waver. Eric slowly leans back in his seat; Jae’s fingers tap impatiently at the table next to him. Faint noises from upstairs sometimes make their way down to them and hopefully, Wonpil is still busy for some time.

Jae feels like breathing again when Eric finally responds to his story.

“Why should I trust you?” Eric’s hand never strays too far from his hips. His weapon peeks out from under his blazer. “This is just another try to get me on your side. You’re the enemy, you could feed me lie to lie and what’s in for me in the end? The knowledge that I protect a criminal for money. I’m no better than you then.”

Frustration boils up in his stomach, a nauseous feeling that fills his chest with much desperation and anger. Nothing works as planned. His drugs? Gone. His clean hands? Dripped in blood. His promise to never look twice at Brian again? A whole can of problems that he doesn’t want to touch on.

The point is; Jae feels like a loser again. Right down at that bottom of the world, lying in his own blood in the streets of LA and cursing at the high buildings towering over him. LA doesn’t have a pretty night sky and so doesn’t Seoul, no stars, only shadows.

All because of that bloody body on his floor and fucking Brian Kang.

“Check my history. Look me up.” His voice takes on a whiny tilt, the taste of desperation hiding behind it. “You’ll see; before Seoul I was just an innocent student in South Cali doing normal boy business. No drugs, no mobs, nothing. Just good ol’ me.”

“Been there, done that.” Eric has the audacity to look smugly at him because he knows, they both know, the tables are about to turn. Jae loses the control over their relationship. Eric is two steps in front of him. “According to the State of America, Mister Jaehyung Park disappeared over seven years ago without a trace. To quote his parents, ‘Jaehyung is dead’.”

Oh. He forgot about that.

After his horrible decision to leave America for good, he has written his parents a last letter to ask for their forgiveness. He may have hinted on a possible suicide, so they won’t try to search for him (Korea isn’t that absurd of a place to look for him; his grandmother is living somewhere around here) and the police will let the case go.

“There are now two possibilities: Either you are this Jaehyung Park or you’re an imposter.”

“Should I show you my birth certificate or what?” That’s possible. Jae has his old documents up there in his safe. Right under the whole documents Sungjin gave him for his new Korean identity. “Okay, Eric—”

“Inspector Nam.”

“We both can help each other. I can be your informant, just in a not so legal way.” Time to lay his cards on the table. “I can feed you with information of everything, I’m an insider in the whole mobster business. I am Park Sungjin’s right hand, I know so much more than the usual running boy on the street. In turn, I don’t expect much. What I want is a helping hand and be the receiver of your investigation funds. Like that shooting in Dowoon’s bar.”

Eric’s leg jumps up and down slightly. Jae feels like he can breathe again. It’s the first sign of Eric being interested in something, he has him right there. He just needs a little push.

“We go round in circles, again and again,” Eric sighs into his hand. He rubs his eyes tiredly and looks much older now. “I have no interest whatsoever in your deals, so please stop it.”

“Does Seunghyun ring a bell?”

Eric’s eyes widen slightly and his shoulders tense at Jae’s word.

“Do you mean Lee Seunghyun? The recently deceased club owner?”

Jae nods. “Exactly that one. I assume you know that he was a former high tier gang member in Seoul?”

“Didn’t he lose all of his clubs in a gamble?”

“Except for one.”

“As far as I know—” The detective rises his eyebrow. “—Park Sungjin is the new owner of said club.”

Jae licks his lips and tries to hold his eyes steady. He leans back in his seat and goes for a suave look, tracing the rim of the glass.

“He is.”

The risen eyebrows crash hard back down. His confused face is rather cute. “Are you trying to tell me that your lot killed Seunghyun to get the club?”

“Nope,” Jae chuckles and hides his mouth behind his hand. His lips tremble, Eric doesn’t have to know. It’s time for his best poker face. “It was by lucky chance that he suddenly died just after he signed that paper.”

“And I’m the queen of England.” Eric crosses his arms over his chest, his chin lying down on his body. “There’s no chance that it was just luck.”

“Maybe it wasn’t.” His fingers stop their motion at the glass. “But we didn’t kill him. Someone else beat us to it.”

Lies. Brian has shot him without blinking twice and Jae has held his lifeless body in his arms.

“And who?”

It’s showtime.

Jae sets the biggest smile and his darkest eyes on his face, his fingers steady and lips calm. “The king himself.”

A quiet hush falls over them. Eric’s mask has finally slipped. The confusion got wiped out by the dumfounded expression he sports now, his posture open towards Jae. He did it. He’s on top again.

“Impossible,” Eric breathes, “You’ve got to be kidding me because I have a feeling that you don’t mean Kim Namjoon but—”

“G-Dragon, Kwon Jiyong, however you want to call him.”

“Impossible,” Eric repeats this time harsher, “G-Dragon has left his position as the king years ago. There is no way that he is still on that throne that Kim Namjoon owns now.”

“Believe me, I’m the mobster here.” Jae slides forward in his seat and leans forward towards Eric, grasping his full attention. “He’s being discharged soon, isn’t he? All his other members, the important ones, they’re here in Seoul, right? One of them is a fucking music producer who has a small drug cartel on the side.”

“Choi Seunghyun? Are you sure? The police department has surveillance—”

“Which one? The ones he’s bought?”

Eric’s mouth snaps shut, and Jae celebrates his victory internally. He has just killed two birds with one stone. Only one thing left to do.

“Here’s the deal: I’m giving you intel about the G-Dragon development and help you to get that man off the streets. In turn, you’ll give me intel about your investigations. I don’t want you to cover up any crimes for me, I just need an ally who helps me to bring justice for the dead people.”

Eric bites on his lips and seems to be deep in thought. Jae waits patiently. Patience is a virtue, right? He hasn’t had a lot of patience the last weeks. The month nears its end and August is approaching fast. Too fast.

“I’ll think about it,” is eventually Eric’s verdict as he puts out his notebook and pen again. “I still need that statement on the shooting and this time without lies.”

“I haven’t told you a single lie the whole time you are here,” Jae lies with a bright smile on his face.

~~~

Jae leans heavily back against the wall and slides down next to the paper bag where his clothes from last night are stored in. The elevator behind him whirrs as he brings his visitor down to the lobby and Jae is glad that Eric has finally left. He feels tired, then he thinks briefly about Sungjin waiting for his updates, Wonpil taking care of his unused weapons and Brian’s lips on his neck, and Jae is exhausted to his bones.

Ah, right, there is something else he has forgotten about.

He takes the bag into his hands and rummages around, finds the blood drenched pants from yesterday and pulls the pockets inside out. A card falls down from his pants, black and shiny in the dim hallway light.

He is curious about what Ten has meant to tell him in the club and how the card could answer all his question.

The black card feels smooth and high-class beneath his fingers, a logo is punched on the back. He feels around for it, letters appear in his mind. They are familiar to him. Where has he heard it before? He turns the card around, a single name and number written on it in a red angular font.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jae mumbles under his breath and pushes himself off the floor.

He stalks furiously into his kitchen and swipes his phone off the table. His fingers punch in the letters to search for a name, click-click, and then it rings between his hands in a telltale of connecting a call. Jae presses the phone hard to his ears, his other hand clamping around the black business card without creasing the cardboard.

“Hyung, if you call about the boy—” Boy? What boy? “—I’ve found him this morning behind a trash can and brought him back to Namjoon’s territory, like you told me to.”

Right, he is talking about Kai, the guy who tried to steal from Brian.

“Right, good, okay,” Jae says distractedly and looks up when he hears the bedroom door opening. He needs to hurry. “Felix, I need a favor from you.”

“Why thank you, Felix, for your hard work,” Felix mimics Jae’s higher pitched voice until Jae interrupts him again.

“Not now, Felix,” Jae scolds him harshly, “I want you to find out everything you can about a guy called Johnny Suh.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

Yes, Ten gave me a business card with that guy’s name written on it, Jae thinks.

“Just do it. And do it alone. Don’t talk to anyone about it and if I catch you doing otherwise, you’ll get to know Wonpil’s not so nice side. Understood?”

A few seconds tick by, Wonpil appears at the railing of the upper floor and looks curiously down to Jae before Felix’s answer.

“Understood. You’re sometimes more terrifying than Younghyun-hyung and he’s the one who kills people.”

Jae hangs up without another word and sighs deeply. Wonpil moves from his spot towards the stairs but Jae beats him to it and takes two steps upstairs at the same time. His arms find Wonpil’s frame easily, pulling him into a crushing hug and his head leans down on Wonpil’s own. It’s warm and nice in Wonpil’s arms, calm and soothing, but the feeling he wants to feel never comes.

Ridiculous. It’s ridiculous how one incident, accident, can turn his whole world on its axis. Where did things go so horribly wrong? Was it Seunghyun’s dead? The dead delivery boy? Kim Namjoon’s entrance in his life?

“Everything alright, hyung?”

Wonpil looks up to Jae, his chin poking into his chest and his nose grazing at his chin. Jae gazes at the younger, sees the worried lines in his face and gifts him a smile to calm the other down. When Wonpil’s eyebrows furrows, Jae knows his smile came out as a hesitant grimace.

“Did you check the bag?”

Their everlasting pact of not talking about the things they don’t want to talk about. Wonpil knows when he should let the topic go and Jae knows when he shouldn’t ask in the first place. It’s their dynamic, the knowledge of each other’s most inner thoughts without voicing them.

“Everything’s as usual.”

The card lies heavy in his pant pocket, the gun in his bag even heavier. The light in his wardrobe is dim, the shadows creeping along the walls as Jae and Wonpil walk in. The black bag is carefully perched on a glass table in the middle of the room, the light reflecting off the shiny black leather.

Wonpil’s finger carefully pry open the zipper, the contents melting into the blackness of the inside. His long and white fingers glide along the surface of a gun before they grab it, pulling it out in one swift motion and turning it for Jae to take it.

The gun is bigger than his usual one, shinier and sleeker nonetheless. When Jae doesn’t move to take it, Wonpil takes it back, puts it next to the bag and starts to pull out the remaining content. Knives and more smaller guns add to the growing pile, the uneasiness creeping up Jae’s spine.

“Wait, wait,” Jae eventually stops Wonpil, “You don’t have to put them all out. I trust you.”

“Why did you ask me to check on them?”

The question of the hour. Jae doesn’t want to explain Wonpil his reasons, but his lover puts on his curious and innocent puppy eyes that Jae has a hard time to say no to. He faces a battle of being disgusted by the portrayed aegyo, being nervous by the proximity of so many lethal weapons, being scared by the aspect that they all belong to him.

Instead of talking about the many swirling thoughts in his head, Jae pulls his trusted gun out of the paper bag and unloads the magazine. Wonpil’s eyes follow his fingers, widen slightly when he realizes that bullets are missing.

“And here I thought Dowoon was protecting you when he told Sungjin that you shot one of them.”

Here it is, the truth Jae doesn’t want to face at all but get punched into his face even so. He licks his lips and tries a smile that comes out as a small and unsure smirk.

“Shot right through the abdomen,” Jae croaks through his betraying voice. His fingers busy themselves switching the munition in his pistol with skillful ease, muscle memory at its finest.

The quiet is unnerving when Wonpil fails to offer some words on his confession and Jae can’t say anything about his facial expression since he refuses to look up from the murder weapon in his hands. The eternal wondering of the question if he is at fault for the one man’s death burdens his shoulders more and more with the existing reminder of the night. A shot, a cry, a fall, everything Jae has realized until it was too late.

He wishes the numbness back instead of the storm raging inside him.

“Jae—”

“It’s okay, Piri. I did what had to be done. Who knows what the consequences would’ve been if I hadn’t done it.”

Unfortunately, Jae’s admission doesn’t stop Wonpil from dishing out more truths than he is ready to face to.

“Is that the reason why you ran straight into Younghyun-hyung’s arms?”

“I didn’t—What—no?” Jae chokes on his answer. Wonpil only considers something, his lower lip trapped between his teeth and eyes searching for something in Jae’s own.

“It’s okay, you know?” Wonpil smiles widely, a gesture that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know that Younghyun-hyung is the person you turn to when you battle with your demons again. In a way, he always has been.” There is hurt laced in Wonpil’s voice, betraying the void of emotion in his face. “Sometimes I wonder if your resentment is born out of the need to hide the fact that you will always love him.”

“I don’t—I’m not—It’s just mutual attraction,” he weakly tries to defend himself.

He doesn’t love Brian. Not anymore. That’s a fact. Brian doesn’t elicit those butterflies anymore, doesn’t make his heart race in happiness, doesn’t color in the black and whiteness of Jae’s life.

Sure, there are things Jae could never stop marveling at, the eyes and the smile and the way his voice floats through the air in melodies that remind Jae of the songs Brian used to sing to him. They have been in a relationship before, some feelings will always stay with Jae. There have been many reasons why he _was_ in love with Brian, but those reasons don’t stand anymore.

Brian isn’t the sweet college guy that pursues a dream of becoming an independent musician that no one can ever push down; he is Kang Younghyun who kills people for money and pursues a life of deception and lies instead.

When meeting Brian meant that his world turned its head, then meeting the real Kang Younghyun turned the world once again to a point of no coming back; and Jae, in some unfortunate decision fate has made long ago, got tangled deep into the webs of Younghyun’s complex being.

“I want to be honest with you, Jaehyung,” Wonpil says with such finality in his tone. “You have become such a good liar ever since you arrived here in Seoul. Just, the person most deceived by your lies is you.”

Maybe Wonpil has a point and Jae is living in his own web of lies, a lonely and cold place to be caught in.

Jae licks his lips, the gun in his hand long forgotten, the silence suffering.

“Has the green-eyed monster finally awoken, Mister I-don’t-have-deep-feelings-for-someone-else-than-mysterious-man?” Jae chuckles after a few seconds.

Wonpil rolls his eyes and smiles though. “Suit yourself, boss.”

Jokes and smiles are better than this. Better than admitting that after all the time, Jae may have never fallen out of love after all this time.

~~~

The sky above Seoul clouds up and the sun vanishes behind dark and rumbling clouds, threatening to leave the people bustling through the city all wet. The first drop falls, his sisters not far behind. A wet patch darkens the gray street and grows into a blanket all across the city. The bright and vivid summery scene falls into a glum and desaturated hush, the loud sounds and chirps of the summer fading out slowly.

A colorful spot and then again another; umbrella for umbrella opening up and painting the street full of various colors; red, yellow, green and blue, a full rainbow of protection against the rainy weather.

A rumble echoes through the air and the lightning follows soon after, the streets lighten up for a scary flash. Somewhere around the corner, a child cries and another shrieks loudly when another lightning strikes again.

In his haste to get away from Wonpil and his too deep insights, Jae has fled his apartment without a second thought and ended up without protection against the rain. The broad hoodie is drenched and drips with water when he enters the all too familiar restaurant and the old lady chides him with her wet rack for dirtying the just cleaned up floor.

The restaurant, empty as always save for the lonely occupier in the usual corner, is dark with the absence of natural light from the sun, and the scarcely existing lamps don’t do much to brighten the room. Or the gloom ambience.

Maybe that’s just Jae’s mood.

He shuffles forward to the only occupied table, already dished with various different meals (Jae instantly spots the chicken wings and tries not to wince at the memory of the last time he had chicken wings in here), and Sungjin beams proudly at him when Jae takes place opposite of him.

“Long time no see,” Sungjin greets him happily and takes the soju bottle to pour Jae a cup. The bottle is half empty, the dishes half eaten and Sungjin looks half tipsy; he most probably has been waiting for Jae longer than an hour.

The old lady put a clean plate and chopsticks in front of him and Jae thanks her, glad for the few seconds he can use to steel himself for the following talk.

“Sorry I’m late, but Wonpil was cooking one of his soups.”

Sungjin’s nose crunches up as he grimaces; a gesture that makes him look younger and more boyish than he really is.

“Someone should already tell him that his soups are far too salty.”

“Be my guest.”

Jae goes for the chicken wings first and then for a big swoop of black bean noodles. The dishes are delicious, like a good old home cooked meal that no one can make better than your mother. It’s silent in the restaurant except for their slurps and satisfied sigh.

“I take it that Wonpil filled you in about our findings from yesterday?”

Has he? Jae can’t remember. His mind is full of other things like Jinyoung’s advice on how to meet Jackson, Eric Nam’s hopefully fruitful visit, Wonpil’s unreasonable accusations, the man he has probably killed, and, highlight of the day, Brian’s plush lips against his skin. It’s probably around eighty percent Brian and twenty percent other things that occupy his thoughts.

“Maybe,” Jae settles on eventually and looks around the table for his next target. The shrimps don’t look too bad.

“Well, we don’t have much except for five dead men with no connection to the underground. More so, it looks like that team got scratched together by chance; a normal office worker from Gyeongju, a professional fitness trainer from Daegu, a poor fisherman from Busan, a high school teacher from Seoul and a postman from Ilsan.”

“Ilsan?”

“That’s not far from here,” Sungjin points out and goes for the kimchi, “just right next to—”

“I know where it is,” Jae jumps in. “It just sounded familiar to me.”

Sungjin smiles amusedly at Jae. “You know that before Younghyun moved to Canada he’s lived in Ilsan?”

“Brian’s from Ilsan?” Jae asks absent-mindedly as he, too, wants the kimchi. “Always thought he’s from Seoul or Incheon.”

“Nah, Wonpil is from Incheon. And the airport’s there, too.” The younger chuckles. “After all those years here with us and you still don’t know a thing about the country.”

“It’s not like I get around much outside of Seoul.”

“Cheers to that.”

Jae likes –ignore everything Jae has said before about him— Sungjin. He is a nice guy who can be adorable, sweet and caring when he isn’t in full-on mobster mode. He gets it, really, leading an underground syndicate with one of the biggest entertainment districts in the capital of South Korea does take its toll on _not_ being scary, but Sungjin is genuinely nice. Like how he is very polite towards him just because Jae is older or how he listens to people’s rants and problems and searches for a solution. He could be a good friend to Jae.

The problem is just, conversations with Sungjin always have a certain tension beneath them, an underlying tone that sets Jae on edge. Sungjin treats Jae with much respect. This respect, however, comes with overwhelming expectations that Jae is hesitant to match up to.

When Jae had accepted Sungjin’s hand on that fateful night years ago, he has looked up to him. Sungjin has been a big man who doesn’t let people look down on him. He has always been above the streets, above the city, a man who deserves a spot right next to the sun. Jae wanted to be like that.

Somewhere along the line, Jae got to be someone like that, and he really enjoys it. He has the goddamn best flat in whole Seoul to prove just that. Yet, with his position came also Sungjin’s impatient demands for Jae to get rid of his moral compass and delve deep into the beings of a true gangster. Someone who kills people for a living.

Long story short; Jae is reluctant to let go that last part of his moral obligations as a human being and has started to fear conversations with Sungjin instead. Sungjin’s demands only get louder and harsher with time and Jae really fears for his position as Sungjin’s right hand.

He really likes to have a higher position than Brian.

“We have huge problem,” Jae cuts through the sounds of clanking dishes and crispy food. “Our whole drug stash got burned down last night.”

Jae has expected for Sungjin to groan and complain about the problems piling up on his desk, to give Jae so many more orders than he has the capacity to follow through. He doesn’t do so, he only hums and nods and says between two bites,

“Good thing that you’ll try to meet Jackson. How’s that going, by the way?”

When Jae doesn’t say anything, Sungjin raises his eyebrow with noodles hanging between his lips. Hilarious.

“Aren’t you like angry or so?”

“Ah,” he mumbles before he swallows the food, “Chan has already called and explained everything to me yesterday.” Wait, what? “Don’t sweat over it; Chan only did so because he said, and I quote, ‘Jae-hyung looks like shit and literally passed out in Younghyun-hyung’s lap’.”

Fucking Bang Chan.

“I wasn’t falling asleep in his lap, he—”

“Save it, Jae-hyung. I’m not interested in your love life, in fact, it’d be very nice to never hear anything else of it.”

“But—”

“You had a long day yesterday, it’s okay. And—” Jae doesn’t like how Sungjin is grinning, as if he got Twice praising him for his _outstanding_ dance moves. “—I’ve heard what you did to save Dowoonie.”

Welp, this explains why Sungjin is suddenly so nice and understanding. Jae should have seen it coming from a mile away, instead he ran right into that conversation completely unprepared. Otherwise, it could have prevented him from halting his movements, from flinching back and letting go of the kimchi between his chop sticks, and Sungjin hadn’t been none the wiser as to how Jae feels right now. How his neck breaks out in a sweat and his hands start to shake, a slight tremble that shivers through his whole body.

Jae wills his heart to calm the fuck down and his lungs to function properly; there’s no better situation than now to bluff his way out of the situation.

“He told me that if you hadn’t shot the guy, Dowoon would be laying in a hospital.” Jae tries not to wince at the proud dad smile on Sungjin’s face. “You finally did put your gun to good use, I’m proud of you.”

Hearing those words feels like a knife impaling his heart and dragging it down to his stomach. Or even better, like a knife stuck into his back; featuring Jae as Caesar and Sungjin as Brutus, guest appearance by the old lady wiping down the counter and the bloody corpse that will haunt Jae’s dreams forever. Where’s the script, Jae could write the best Korean drama right now with Brian Kang as the emperor’s love interest. Does this make Brian Cleopatra?

(And wait a minute, shouldn’t Jae be Brutus instead—)

“Now stop your dramatic inner monologue and spit out what’s eating you away,” Sungjin bites harshly. At least that sickening smile is off his face.

Jae swallows hopefully quiet enough for Sungjin not to hear and picks up his fallen down kimchi. His face smooths out into a blank slate. For such cases, Jae goes back to the roots: tell half-lies.

“Those guys were there to kill me and Dowoon, of course it nags on me.”

“We’re mobster, half of Seoul wants us dead,” Sungjin waves him off with his sticks.

“But they don’t send assassins after us.”

Sungjin puts calmly his chop sticks down and pats his mouth clean with a napkin, his plate and many others empty. His smooth fingers grab the glass, and he sips it slowly, the tension in the air rises.

“I was afraid that it might happen sooner or later,” Sungjin confesses after his long drag of his soju. “That’s why I called Wonpil back.”

He called Wonpil back? Wonpil has never told him such a thing. “What do you mean, you called him back?”

“Wonpil was down at the docks to investigate his vanished shipment. He has been reluctant to leave since he couldn’t find anything. I don’t know if he could have achieved anything by staying there longer, but I didn’t want you to be by yourself after Kim Namjoon was in your flat.”

At least Sungjin has the consideration to look sheepishly at him.

“Do me a favor, hyung. Just don’t go anywhere without protection, be it Wonpil or Younghyun. I can sleep better if I know that nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Jae is confused. He doesn’t know if he should be touched by Sungjin’s worries and how he cares for him or if he should be insulted because he doesn’t think that Jae can protect himself. They both know that Jae can protect himself, just not to the extent like Wonpil or Brian.

“For what it’s worth,” Sungjin continues as he fiddles with the phone in his hands, “don’t worry too much about your drugs. I’m taking care of it.”

Right here again, instead of being touched, Jae feels like being punished with Sungjin taking away the thing he reigns over. He can’t exactly say anything against it as he is powerless against his boss’s wishes who, without a doubt, is able to kill him if he wants to. Jae hates it. Hates this situation, this relationship, and how little he feels in front of Sungjin.

“You don’t have to,” he tries weakly when Sungjin stands up. “When I meet Jackson, I’m going to get better drugs and—”

“Like I said,” Sungjin presses, “Don’t worry about it. I have a meeting with Park Chanyeol scheduled and try to get the best I can out of it.”

“Park Chanyeol as in EXO’s drug lord Park Chanyeol?”

Sungjin nods in answer. Jae leans back his chair and stares up at Sungjin with a certain awe and uncertainty.

If you want the best drugs of Seoul, you go to Park Chanyeol or Oh Sehun. Where Six is known for their specialty in casinos and brothels, EXO has claimed the title of drug empire for the rich and poor.

You want the best drugs? You go to EXO. The worst part about it? You don’t mess with EXO. In the history of Seoul’s underground scene, EXO took over what has once been the _Gods of the East_ ’s property, G-Dragon’s biggest nemesis. EXO has long fought for their standing, never lost their powerful position and, after Jiyong’s retirement, even claimed the throne for them; that is until Bangtan rose like the underdogs that they were and took everything away in a raging storm.

So, hearing Sungjin talking about an appointment with Park Chanyeol is a pretty big thing. Too bad that it should have been Jae in his place.

“I have to go now if I don’t want to be late. Eat as much as you want, the tab’s been paid and ahjumma knows.”

With that Sungjin turns his back without a last farewell and leaves the restaurant with a loud chime. Jae sits slumped over in his chair and contemplates his life, digesting more than the food he has eaten.

This is frustrating. Everything is getting out of hand. Jae groans into his own hands, chants ‘ _Everything’s going to be alright_ ’ in his head and maps out the new information in his head. Maybe it isn’t too bad that Sungjin is making deals with Chanyeol. It could turn out to be very good since Jae needs the good stuff. A certain drughead is waiting for his supply.

“Did you get in a fight with a squirrel?”

“What the fuck—”

Jae jumps at the new voice in front of him, jumps at the sight of a foreign woman stealing the food from the table and putting it elegantly into her mouth. Her pretty black hair is bound back in a ponytail, her eyes sharp and lips plump. Too bad that Jae is gay as fuck and pretty much in love—ah, nearly got him there.

“—And who the fuck are you?”

“What’s with the bad mouth?” Her voice is sharp, and her words cut right through Jae’s oncoming migraine. He doesn’t feel like meeting more new people.

“I swear as much as I _fucking_ want. Who are you and what do you want?”

Her nails are painted a deep red as her lips, everything looks meticulous around her. She is put together as if she goes to a photo shooting after she is finished with Jae.

Jae is impatient, he doesn’t like to be jumped on like that.

“Park Jaehyung, you have something that belongs to me and I’m here to get it back.”

What is it with people wanting something from him? At least Johnny has been nice enough to ask and wait for his reply instead of eating his meal and criticizing his language.

He should probably stand up and leave. Instead, he blinks at her and waits for her following explanation. That never comes. Fucking great.

“Well, I can’t help you if I don’t know who you are and what you want.”

“I’m hurt,” she feigns with false hurt, “that you don’t even know my name after you stole it from me.”

“Stole? I don’t steal things from people.” He talks people into handing it over to him. Out of free will. For their best interest.

“You listen closely now, you piece of shit—”

“—woah and you scold me for my language—”

“I’m going to tell you my name once and you never forget it because I’m going to be the one to steal the most precious thing from you.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

No, really, Jae is genuinely interested. Is it the guitar? His flat? What could that be?

As her lips move, Jae eyes widen slightly to not give away his deep thoughts because she is somehow hitting bull’s eye without hitting it at all. The most precious thing, Jae’s most precious thing—

~~~

She has been right. Jae doesn’t forget her name. He lies in bed awake, Wonpil soundly asleep next to him, and her words rob him of his sleep.

He makes sure that Wonpil is really deep asleep and pries himself off of him. The floor is cold as is the air, but Jae feels like burning up, his neck flush and dripped in sweat. His heart throbs hard against his chest and his hands tremble slightly.

Until he eventually stands in front of his safe, his fingers pushing in the code in autopilot, and he opens the door to pull out his small, precious notebook.

The names. He has written down all the names, all the important ones, from the big players to the small businesspeople. Dead people, people he robbed from, his customers, everyone has their place in his years-old notebook.

He just wants to confirm her story, her name, and there she is, right under _his_ name.

_Jennie Kim_

Jae sighs heavily as he takes in the information that he has put down on her – not much to begin with – and stacks the book onto the others in his safe. Leaned next to the notebooks, his old smartphone catches his eye and Jae thinks back to his dream last night, about his first meeting with Brian and talking about their dreams with Sammy.

Has Sammy made his dreams come through? The old picture of Sam in their shared dorm room, the guitar placed neatly in his hands, a sight Sammy has been born for. A small smile builds up on Jae’s lips, his heart warms at the memories of late nights, rainy weather and sweet melodies strung on guitars.

Jae stills and gnaws at his lips when a sudden thought crosses his mind, the temptation to do something he hasn’t done for years now overwhelms his immensely. It makes his hand grab the smartphone in his safe, the other one neatly placed atop of a small laptop instead of his old phone from America.

His back meets the wall of his closet and Jae slides down to sit between two shelves, his fingers press down the lock button. The screen comes alive and the set-up follows, the seconds ticking away in a rhythm with Jae’s harsh beating heart. He bites his fingernails in anxious wait, his patience running on thin ice.

A long time ago, back when he has just arrived in Seoul, Jae had this small nightly ritual before he went to sleep. Every night, he would cross the way to his safe and take out the old phone, pushing the button to unlock and enter every social media app he has owned.

Back then, it was his only string to the life he has just abandoned and his only way to ease the heartache and homesickness, the constant reminder that there were people at home dearly missing him while he was all alone here. Now, Jae knows, he was obsessed with the what ifs and what nots and has been filled to the brim with regret and guilt of leaving what has been a good life.

A life where he wasn’t lying to get money, where he wasn’t threatening people to get their last possessions, where he wasn’t hiring hitmen to kill.

He has been innocent in every way one could be described as innocent up until the day Sammy persuaded to visit the bar with him. That one hole in the wall pub where a man with fox-shaped eyes gave the most wonderful performance Jae has been listening to.

Ironic how he fell low from grace only to stand high above the city. Jae has traded morality and integrity against power for a price too high.

The phone finally finishes the set up and Jae eagerly downloads all the social media platforms he can think of and creates accounts for each of them. Then, he is welcomed and _please put in topics and interests to find possible profiles_ —

Jae stills and takes a second to breathe, to think this through. Is he ready to face the inevitability of time? There is no way back once he has found him and the realization of how much time has passed crashes in.

Yes, he needs to do it. So, his fingers tap on the search field and tap slowly the username he can remember, _iwoos—_

And there he his.

His heart misses a few beats as the profile of Sammy sticks up to him, the picture of him smiling brightly at the camera punches the air out of his lungs. Sammy looks so good, not much older, but his hair is now a pretty blonde and falls in waves over his eyes, the teeth so white and shiny and his cheeks so rosy. He looks happy, so, so happy that Jae’s own heart could burst out of happiness. He beams at the picture and a rush of excitement fills his blood as he swipes through the many pictures of Sammy that he doesn’t know.

Sammy has been everywhere, a picture of him with the New York skyline in the background, a romantic shot in front of the Eiffel Tower, a scenic view on the Berlin Wall and so many pictures with so much skin and wow, Sammy’s back is a whole meal.

Jae stops at a concept shooting for Sammy’s new album because he realizes then that, yes, Sammy did it. Sammy made his dreams come true. He is an artist with his own album.

Jae scrambles up to search for headphones that has to be somewhere, maybe in a bag or his pants, and there they are, not far from him, and he returns back to his spot, YouTube already open to search for the video and one turns up. He has never pressed for a video so quickly before.

It’s overwhelming seeing his old friend’s face with such a bright smile while he sings in a music video. Jae bites on his knuckles to hide his own grin and the emotion that threatens to spill out of his glazed over eyes.

The video ends too fast and Jae takes a deep breath to calm down, especially the small tremble in his hands.

He returns back to the picture gallery and scrolls mindlessly through it, each picture now feels more like a needle that pierces through his heart and, as predicted, reality creeps in slowly as Jae starts to notice the many differences between the Sammy he knew back then and Woosung the famous singer he sees on here.

He goes back to the main page, an empty thread with white blankness staring up at him and an apologetic smile noticing him that he has to follow people to see something on here.

Should he look for his parents? See what his sister is up to?

No, he shouldn’t. It’s too risky. Not his family.

God has he fallen down deep. Jae should destroy his phone and forget everything he has just seen and go back to status quo; his throwback sessions have never done anything good to him. No, they always have ended with him crying on the floor like the pathetic chicken he is until Brian has come back home to pick him up from the floor into his arms and whisper sweet promises into his hair.

The day Brian has locked his phone away in a safe Jae didn’t know the code to was cathartic to his soul. Brian has wished to throw the phone away, Jae has broken down the moment Brian said the words and pleaded with him not to do so.

Maybe he should be proud at himself that he hasn’t cried by now, especially when he watched the music video.

He returns back to the search bar and is about to tap in Sammy’s profile again when another thought crosses his mind, just to torture him even more. He presses the button, an E and A and J and suddenly there is his old username written in front of him and his old profile comes up and Jae wants to throw up.

His profile picture is a mocking reminder of who he used to be and to punish him even further, he taps on the picture and sees a gallery filled to the brim with pictures of his friends, his guitar, memes and even a few selfies. But the last ones, the one that is smiling up at him like a love-sick teenager, is a portal to old times that Jae wants to erase so much.

There is Jae, beaming at the camera with hearts in his eyes, and his hands around the arm of the other person who tries to hide himself from the camera. Back then, Jae has thought Younghyun was shy in front of the camera and didn’t want to show the whole world his adoration for the lanky and awkward boy. Now, Jae knows that Brian couldn’t show his face on social media when he was a hitman in disguise.

Where Jae’s pictures with Brian tear his heart apart, his other pictures with his sister and mother and father and Sammy and all his other friends let it shatter into thousand small pieces.

The pictures get blurred, either because wet drops distort the view of the screen or because of the tears that spill over his eyelids, he doesn’t care; Jae has managed to make himself cry again. His hands press hard against his mouth to stop the sobs and wails out of his throat, and he breathes erratically as his heart stammers against his chest.

The black emptiness swallows him wholly and he feels like falling again. It’s different from the falling when he is with Younghyun, it isn’t like the deep end embracing him with warmth and desperation; it is more the free fall from high up the sky, like a burnt down stick having reached its end and turning black, all color drained and all beauty amiss.

There is so much to unpack in his emotions, so much regret and guilt. A deep sated longing and homesickness he has buried long ago surface again, their roots deeply grown in the untouched parts of his thoughts.

His thoughts are spiraling down into the depth of hatred, a black emotion that shows its various faces to Jae in every moment he is existing here in Seoul. Hatred for the people around him as they make him the monster he doesn’t want to be, and self-hatred as he lets them do as they want. Look what he has become to. Look at Jae, point your fingers at him, call him names and make jokes out of him. Anything, please, anything is better than the blood that cascades in falls from his fingers, blood that is his own fault.

His pathetic wails turn into a full-blown panic attack and he can’t calm down, his heart is stuck in his throat and he can’t breathe, he wants to breathe so much, and his stomach is tied into so many knots, it turns over and over and fuck, Jae staggers into the on-suite bathroom right to the toilet to throw up. The relief from the pain never comes, the tears never dry, his breathing doesn’t normalize, and his head feels so blank.

How much he wishes that the door opens and Younghyun enters to sweep him up into his arms and whisper promises he will never keep into his hair—

“Hello?”

Jae jumps at the sudden voice and turns around in the room, a silly move since he can’t see a thing through his blurry eyes.

“Hello? Is there someone?”

His phone. The voice comes from his phone. Did he take the phone with him? Yes, indeed, it’s right there in his hand. He has dialed a number. Fuck, he has dialed a number!

“Okay, I’m hanging up if you don’t—”

Jae hastily picks up the phone and put it on his ear, his voice breathless and drowned by a sob that spills over his lips as he says, “Hi.”

He hears the sharp inhale on the other side of the line and then nothing except the static whirring of the line. He can’t take it, can’t do the silence, not now, not when he wants to breathe.

“I’m sorry I called your number,” Jae starts desperately in English, “I just—I had—I did it again, I did it, I couldn’t help myself when I saw the phone and next thing I know I was downloading those apps and went to his profile and he’s a musician, did you know it, he made it, he made his dreams come true and I’m here, I’m here and cry like a looser and make it stop, please, make it stop.”

Jae presses the heel of his free hand against his eye and clenches his teeth hard to still his whimpers, the tears flowing freely down onto his hands and chin, dripping into the hollow of his collarbones.

“Make it stop,” he pleads in a tear whisper, “please.”

A sharp breath again, a warm voice calling his name. “Everything’s alright, Jae. I’m here.”

“Why?”

His question is loaded with so many different meanings. So many questions that he has waited for to be answered, answers that never came.

“Why did you do that to me, Younghyun? Why did you bring me here?” Jae whimpers as Younghyun patiently listens. “Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me when I needed you the most?”

Alone. Staring up the high buildings of LA, staring up the high buildings of Seoul, both times beaten up lying in an empty street, both times rain washing away his tears.

“Jae, please calm down and then we—”

“I don’t want to calm down,” Jae cuts him off hoarsely, “I want answers. Just answer this one question.”

“Isn’t Wonpil with you, maybe I can call him—”

“Just answer me!”

“Because I loved you!”

The line gets silent except for the heaving breaths Jae hears over the static noise. Jae’s sobs have stopped the moment the words flew out of Younghyun’s mouth, hanging between them like colorful blotches running down a black tainted canvas, the colors fading along the trail and wetness breaking through the blackness.

The flow has stopped as have the tears and his panicked breaths like the air surrounding them, time standing still. It’s tangible and fragile at the same time, the words’ meaning sink into his mind like drops into water, causing ripples that get higher and higher. Jae sees how the ocean starts to rage, a storm that comes up and disturbs the silent serenity of the surface, while his body floats through the darkness of the deep end.

Jae hears Younghyun heave a deep gasp, his last breath before he jumps from the shallow right into the deep end, his fingers reaching out blindly into the darkness and yet right forward to Jae, nearer and nearer. “Because I loved— love—”

“No, you didn’t.”

Jae wants to breathe, gasps when the air doesn’t fill his lungs, the bubbles flowing up from his mouth, up and up until they would reach Younghyun, his pleading cry for help captured in them.

The other line crackles before Younghyun tries again, desperate and laced with his own panic.

“Jae, I promise, no, I swear, the reason why I left you—”

Jae huffs a maniac laugh. This ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. “You left me because you loved me? What is this, a fucking Korean drama?”

“I loved you with every ounce of my heart. I swear, really, and everything I did, do, will do is because I—"

And the bubbles burst before they can reach Younghyun at the same time as the line beeps. His finger still hovers over the touchscreen where he has just pressed the hang up button, trembling with the tears that drop onto the screen.

Jae is drowning in the blackness and yet, light slowly fills in through the cracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Younghyun plays at the beginning is Day6 - I would.
> 
> Next chapter: Track 6: U gotta see blood girl, you're only satisfied when you see blood


	6. Track 6: U gotta see blood girl, you're only satisfied when you see blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Day6 - Blood
> 
> Sets the mood for what's about to happen in this chapter

When Jae has woken up that morning, his head felt like splitting into halves and his nose was clogged up enough for him to search desperately for his nasal spray.

It’s Friday. Friday is a good day because today is the day Jae meets Johnny Suh again. He has become very interested in the man, especially when Felix called him back that morning to report of his finding. Which is exactly—

(“Nothing. I found nothing about Johnny Suh. I mean, there are many Johnny Suh’s in the world but none of them are currently in Seoul.” Felix’s pout is audible even through the line and Jae can imagine it just too well. It’s a look he is currently wearing himself.

“Not a chance? Maybe under a different name?”

Felix huffs. “You haven’t exactly given me a lot to work with. Just the name Johnny Suh. Even Chan-hyung couldn’t tell me more except that he’s definitely not over forty.”)

After breakfast with Wonpil which included a rough make-out session at his kitchen counter—

(“Hyung, slow down, you’re so impatient today,” Wonpil giggled into Jae’s neck while the older nibbles against his jawline.

“Just. Missed you. Missed this.”

“You haven’t kissed Younghyun-hyung when he devoured you?”

Jae only growled as answer and bit hard into Wonpil’s shoulder.)

\--which got interrupted by the plings of their phones, and if both of their phones go off, it’s mostly only one person who wants something from them. Since his last meeting with Sungjin has left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, Jae doesn’t look forward to the short meeting he has convoked, especially because a group meeting includes Brian, the last person Jae wants to face now (He even beats Sungjin, wow).

Wonpil plays with his fingers on their drive there, all smiles and assuring pats when he hears Jae’s nervous deep breathers. Jae’s own fingers that aren’t occupied by Wonpil fiddle with his smartphone and the music app opened on it, swiping through the search results for a certain name. It’s his own phone, his everyday life phone, the other one from last night lies safely stored deep in his closet after he has wiped and turned it off again.

His heart beats considerably calmly in his chest when he eyes the one result that matters, and he blinks a few times quickly before he presses on the song and music blasts through his earphones. Wonpil’s head spins directly to him and he watches Jae curiously until the elder gives in and pushes one earphone in his ear to share the music.

A simple guitar riff loosens the tense silence, accompanied a few seconds later by a smooth voice singing in a mix of English and Korean, a set of beats leading up to the chorus. Wonpil’s head nods to the beat, his face finally off of Jae’s and turned towards the blurred streets. Jae’s own fingers tap the beat on Wonpil’s knee, and his head follows.

“Nice song,” Wonpil comments off-handedly as a smile forms on his face, “Who sings that?”

Jae stops his motions and swallows hard, hopefully not audible to Wonpil. “It’s been released a few weeks ago. New singer but…” Jae trails off and shrugs his shoulders. Wonpil doesn’t seem too bothered about it and looks out of the window again, his fingers interlacing with Jae’s to stop the tapping on his knee.

He is fully aware that he probably shouldn’t be specifically looking for Sammy’s songs. He could write it off as his genuine interest in Sammy’s music (his songs are really nice to listen to) and Sammy uses his Korean name for promotions, so the connection between the two Korean roommates Jae and Sammy from South Cali should be hard to make, but Jae is worried nonetheless. Their worlds are destined to never meet again, and Jae is more than happy to lend fate his hand in help of doing so.

As nice as it would be to see his old friend again and tell him ‘Hey, I’m alive by the way’, the risk of hurting Sammy is one too big to take. It’s already enough that Jae is as damaged as he is right now.

Jae is nearly through the short EP when Wonpil announces their arrival to Sungjin’s tower (and some say Jae is obsessed with heights) and when Jae catches the glimpse of who exactly is lingering around in front of the entrance, his stomach falls between his knees and he wants to turn back home right now.

“Long time no see, Younghyun-hyung!” Wonpil greets Brian with a hearty hug since they haven’t seen each other for weeks now. Brian smiles his typical ‘nice guy from the neighborhood’ smile that pisses Jae off so much that he wants to punch it from his face.

His heart plummets at how Brian’s face falls when he spots Jae, and Jae just wants to rush into the office and get the meeting over with. He pushes in the earphone deeply (unfortunately, Wonpil still has the second one) before he steps out of the car und ducks down his head in hopes that Brian catches the cue and leaves him alone.

Their conversation is still fresh on his mind. Jae hates it so much to think about it, to think about Younghyun’s voice reassuring him that yes, he has loved him back then, because then Jae has to accept that his heart feels a bit at peace that not everything has been a big lie. That their relationship has had some snippets of truth and love in them. Then again, it’s easier if Jae labels their past relationship as two men sexually attracted to each other while one of them gets played hard by the other, just to own his whole existence.

Younghyun is easier to handle if he doesn’t exist and all that’s left behind is Brian.

Brian who right now walks behind Jae and is somehow glued to his elbow when he peers over Jae’s shoulder. It’s not as if it is easy for Brian with Jae being taller or something like that.

“What are you listening to?” Brian asks curiously with a tilt of cautiousness. Why is he cautious? Because he knows that he’s on thin ice with Jae?

“Ever heard of none of your business?” Jae retorts, “Perfect song, relate to the lyrics, can only recommend.”

“It’s a new artist Jae-hyung has found today,” Wonpil offers to prevent any further quarrels between them, “Woosung is it, right?”

Jae only grunts when a new song starts, better than the other one, a song Jae wants to jam to.

“Woosung?” Brian’s voice tilts a bit too high.

They reach –thankfully—the elevators and get in, and Jae has finally Brian off his neck. Only that it gives Brian the perfect opportunity to snatch away Jae’s phone—

“Hey! Gimme back my phone!” Jae cries in English and throws himself onto Brian who blocks him with his wide frame. Damn those shoulders!

Brian laughs as he tries to wrestle Jae off him and Wonpil chuckles at the childish display that they radiate off until the moment Brian gets a look at the artist on the cover and his whole body stills. The perfect chance to get his phone back even though it’s too late by now. Brian has seen him and, by the looks of it, already connected the dots.

“Isn’t that—”

Only that the fucker has an iron grip on his phone, what the hell?

“—Sammy?”

The elevator dings at their arrival and the doors open to Sungjin’s reception where his secretary is perfectly absent today. The doors to the office are closed, silence on the whole floor except for the shuffling feet from the elevator.

“Who’s Sammy?” Wonpil questions with a simple smile, yet Jae picks up the same cautiousness that Brian had when he first inquired about what Jae’s listening to.

Luckily, Brian realizes his mistake as his eyes double in size and his head snaps to Wonpil. _Master of poker face_ Jae’s ass, that guy can’t hide a thing to save his life.

(Oh, how foolish of Jae to think.)

Jae is glad that it’s Wonpil that they are talking to. He can trust Wonpil.

“An old friend of mine from back in America,” Jae eventually answers with a big sigh and watches how Brian scrolls through Sammy’s music feed.

“Oh.” Wonpil’s smile is wiped off his face as he blinks at Jae. He looks so boyish and innocent that something cringes inside Jae, especially when pictures of Wonpil’s blank face combined with blood-splattered clothes and a gun in his face flashes in front of his eyes. “So, the artist Woosung is Sammy your friend? And Younghyun-hyung’s too?”

“By extension,” Brian jumps in absent-mindedly while his fingers still scroll through Jae’s phone. When he doesn’t add anything to it, Wonpil turns to Jae.

Jae sighs again. “We were roommates in college, so Brian and Sammy ran into each other quite often.”

“Ah, sometimes I forget that you guys have been together years ago,” Wonpil says as if it’s nothing to be awkward about. No, Jae doesn’t want a hole to swallow him on his spot. Nooooooo, why should he?

“Oh.”

Brian’s ‘oh’ sounds like something Jae should be worried about. Wait a minute, he gets his worry list out, there it is, right behind ‘things I don’t want to think about’.

“Sammy’s in Seoul right now.”

What?

“Who’s in Seoul right now?” Sungjin comes in perfectly timed to cut off Jae’s brewing panic attack. He strides through the reception and into his office where Dowoon is already sitting comfortably at one of the sofas.

“Nothing,” Brian shrugs him off and pushes the phone back into Jae’s hands.

Jae who watches Brian with a flabbergasted look on his face that is as white as a sheet. Wonpil walks into the office, too, but puts his hand at Jae’s back and pulls him with him.

But right, we cut shortly back to Jae’s panicked mind.

Sammy is in Seoul right now. Well, makes sense to promote his songs in Korea since he is a Korean American singer. Sammy’s grandfather lives in Korea, too, so him being in Seoul isn’t as much of a coincidence as Jae believed at first.

The problem at hand is just that Jae can’t ever meet Sammy again. He wants to, really, really wants to and he is rather tempted to meet him by ‘chance’ and reconcile, but it’s not a good idea. Jae is here in his world living the gangster life and Sammy is there in his word where he is basically an idol. This screams disaster from beginning to end.

Although, Jae yearns for his friend. Sammy is part of his old life, of the old Jae, and Jae longs for a small taste of his past to remind himself of who he has been before. To see the difference between then and now. What would Sammy think of him? Would he accept him, the right hand of mob-head Park Sungjin, or would he be disgusted? Jae wouldn’t take any offence in that.

Gladly Sungjin starts the meeting and cuts right through the spiraling thoughts.

“Thanks for coming on short notice,” Sungjin motions them to sit down in front of them. Dowoon straightens his posture so Wonpil fits next to him, their thighs pressing where they meet. Jae throws Wonpil a side-eye when the only other place left is right next to Brian. Not with Jae, he doesn’t even eye the unoccupied seat on the other sofa and perches himself on the armrest instead.

“What got your panties in a twist, boss?” Jae’s humor is met with the usual eyeroll by Sungjin and a chuckle from Wonpil. At least one of them got his back.

“Well,” Sungjin starts exasperated, “many things have happened throughout the last weeks. We’re nearing August in a few days and I hope we can finally see some results. I was hoping that we could use this meeting to get up to date with our problems.”

“We’ve just eaten yesterday, and I told you—”

“With all respect, Jae-hyung,” Sungjin glares at him, “yesterday was my thank you that you’ve saved Dowoonie’s life. You’re slacking off with your updates and do things that I have no idea what they’re set to accomplish.”

Jae licks his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sungjin raises his eyebrows. “You never told me why Yugyeom wanted to meet you so urgently. Or that Jeon Jeongguk threatened you for a Bangtan member in Brian’s cellar. How about the reason why you paid Choi Seunghyeon a visit? Ring any bells?”

“Choi Seunghyeon?” Dowoon asks confused.

Jae takes the moment to take a deep breath because Sungjin has many problematic questions that Jae needs to answer immediately.

“Isn’t he one of G-Dragon’s men?” Wonpil wonders with wide eyes. Brian in turn shoots him a dumbfounded look.

“Yes, he’s known as T.O.P from the former Bigbang mob, former drug lord before Bangtan’s Min Yoongi took over. He is the head of a record label in Gangnam where Jae has walked into some time ago.”

Sungjin leans forward with his hands perched on his desk. His shoulders shield the sun from the window behind and Jae prepares mentally to counter all of Sungjin’s question. Not an easy feat considering how tense his boss’s jaw is right now.

“I don’t know what Yugyeom wanted from me because you were making the appointment, remember?” Jae taps against his forehead and counters Sungjin’s tense jaw with his own sneer. “But we didn’t get around to what Yugyeom wanted because, as you said, Jeon Jeongguk walked in and threatened me because yes, we had a Bangtan member in the YoungK.”

“He was trying to steal something from my office,” Brian –helpfully for once—adds to Jae’s narration, “So Felix and I tried to get out why. We didn’t know that he’s from Bangtan after Jeongguk told Jae.”

“A problem we already took care of,” Jae continues, glad that Sungjin relaxes a bit. “Felix got the boy back to their territory and I haven’t heard any further word from the assassin.”

“What about Choi Seunghyun?”

Here it gets tricky. Good thing he is Park Jaehyung who lives for people eating out of his hands.

“I was hoping that he could tip me off where to get the good drugs since he has once been drug lord of Seoul. And since Jackson refuses to meet me like a normal person does, I figured it’s nothing bad to try.”

The four of them on the sofas jump back when Sungjin’s fist meets his desk with a loud pang.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Sungjin seethes as his face gets blotched with redness. “You can’t just waltz in there and ask him for his former suppliers as if it’s nothing. And that without proper protection! Plus, you never asked me if I allow you to do so! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Imagine how Sungjin would react if he knew the truth. Oh boy, Jae should flee the country, change his name and live far away from civilization. His phone sits heavy in his hand.

Jae ducks his head to hide the fast blinking and hard breathes because the thought has never crossed his mind. What if Sungjin really finds out what he is doing behind his back? Jae is a traitor, no matter his intentions. He is in too deep now, he can’t find his way back to the shallow, his life has been doomed.

“He only meant good,” Brian jumps to his defense while his hand reaches for Jae’s arm. “Someone out there wants to hurt us badly and Jae is only doing his best in the situation.”

“He doesn’t need a new supplier,” Sungjin sneers, “He needs to find out who is killing his delivery boys. It doesn’t mean anything to have a stash when your customer never sees a thing from it.”

Fucking shit, Jae has all forgotten about the dead delivery boys’ murderer. Has he? He doesn’t know. Things are too much for him now. Too many people, too many problems.

 _Stop looking for the murderer on the streets._ That’s what Kim Namjoon has said.

 _It’s an inside job._ Wonpil’s words ring in Jae’s head.

Two different incidents that point to the same conclusion. Someone here is playing his own game. A web of lies for what end? What is the goal of the mole? Who is the traitor?

At the end of the day, they’re all just full of shit. Jae included.

“Sorry boss, I don’t know what else I can tell you,” Jae relents with a heavy sigh. His hands push up his hair from his face before he thinks better. He still has a meeting in a few hours with Johnny Suh. Yay.

Sungjin watches him for a few seconds, seconds where all of them squirm in their seats to await the last judgement. Jae sinks down the armrest on the place right next to Brian.

“We are a family here and a family trusts each other.” Jae tries hard not to wince at that. “I trust you without a doubt—” And here Jae tries hard not to snort at that. “—but please talk to me before you decide to go on suicide missions, okay?”

They all nod in unison while the stone settles deeper into Jae’s stomach. He needs someone to confide in, someone who can help him to see the little things in this web. Jae needs a plan to get out of his own web of lies.

“And to start to get back on good terms,” Sungjin starts calmly again, “I’m sorry about that meeting with Yugyeom, Jae-hyung. I will call Jaebeom to look into the matter on what Yugyeom wanted on that day, okay?”

Please don’t.

“Yeah, you do that,” Jae says instead. Chicken.

“Okay, let’s start at the basics.” Sungjin claps into his hands and walks around the desk to stand in front of the sofas, then takes place at a chair to form a full circle. “First incident. Wonpil loses a shipment of weapons by a captain that miraculously got onto the ship and killed himself to fulfill his mission. We don’t know about the whys and whos, so that’s the first dead-end.”

“I tried to look further into it but nothing, boss.” Wonpil shakes his head and frowns deeply. He probably has the same trail of thoughts as Jae. _It’s an inside job._ Jae tenses and then suddenly feels how Brian’s leg presses lightly into his. “No communication, no traces, the guy is a ghost and the person behind it too.”

Their legs are fully pushed against each other and Brian slowly slides nearer to him. No one notices except for Jae who puts his arm against the armrest and leans against his hand to get further away from Brian. His leg never loses the touch, though.

“Okay, please investigate further. Maybe there’s a thing we haven’t seen so far,” Sungjin orders and Wonpil nods in affirmation. Then their boss turns towards Jae and Brian, again. “Next thing: the delivery boys. They’re still vanishing, and the murderer is still on the loose, right?”

Jae smiles apologetically at Sungjin. “Nothing to add here. I heard on the streets that Kim Namjoon hasn’t killed him, so that’s a plus.”

_Stop looking for the murderer on the streets._

His other hand falls down next to his thigh on the couch and his fingers tap a rhythm onto the cushion. His mouth corner jerks, and he hides his nervousness it behind his other hand.

“That’s the next thing that troubles me.” Sungjin hangs his head low before looking up at all of them. “Kim Namjoon is planning something. First the visit in Jae-hyung’s flat, then the boy breaking into Younghyun’s office and Jeon Jeongguk threatening hyung. Bangtan is quiet and at the same time unsettled, as if something’s brewing in there. Please have your eyes and ears open when you hear something, alright?”

Something is brewing and Jae is holding the spoon to stir the pot. Shit, Jae is stirring the brewing pot.

Fingers begin to nudge his hand on the couch lightly before they start to intertwine with his own slowly, softly.

“Then we have the bad drug stash that luckily has burnt down in an attack yesterday at the same day as the shooting in Dowoon’s club. Unsurprisingly, we have no idea who is behind those, too.” Sungjin pushes his fingers through his dark brown hair and messes them up. He heaves a deep sigh before he puts a small smile on his face again. “On the good side, I found a solution for our drug problems.”

The hand surrounds Jae’s own and squeezes it lightly, a sight that is hidden from the other by their legs pressed hard against each other. Jae feels calm and not so tense anymore, distracted by the fingers.

“Is this about Park Chanyeol?” Jae tunes back into the conversation with his own quip.

Sungjin’s smile grows wider. “That it does. My talk with him went well. Park Chanyeol agreed to share some of his contacts with his drug suppliers and if we get Jackson on board, we could start to re-establish our own drug market and even broaden it.”

Wait a minute.

“That sounds good, hyung,” Dowoon speaks up for the first time in the conversation. His smile though seems to be hesitant. “But why did Park Chanyeol agree to it?”

EXO is known as _the_ source for the best drugs in Korea and Jae knows someone who is very interested in a good drug deal. That’s it, that’s what Jae needs to get Kim Namjoon off his back for a while. This is perfect!

“Of course, he had a price,” Sungjin agrees. “He wants the sun club.”

Where has Jae heard of it before? Isn’t this—?!

“You agreed to give Chanyeol Seunghyun’s club?!” Jae splutters and his hand squeezes Brian’s hard. His heart hammers against his chest because Sungjin hasn’t done it, has he? Please say no, please say no.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Oh, nothing, we only killed one of G-Dragon’s man to get the club we technically robbed from him, no big deal.” Big deal, very big deal. Jae needs the club. The club is part of his big plan and he really doesn’t want to challenge EXO for it.

“When EXO has the club, it’s not our problem anymore. Easy as that.”

“No, not easy as that.” Jae leans forward, his hand still clinging desperately onto Brian’s. “The sun club is more of a symbol. That’s the shining star of Bigbang; just like Bangtan has the Army and we have the YoungK. That club was their basement, their head of operation, the heart of Bigbang.”

“It’s a club with history, that’s it,” Sungjin jumps in. “We don’t need old history to write our own. I’m not naïve enough to think that if G-Dragon returns one day, he will get his club back and I don’t want to be his target. It’s better to lose that goddamn thing now in peace instead of burning to ashes when the Dragon throws a rampage.”

The hand tugs Jae back when he wants to retort something. As if Brian knows what is going on in Jae’s mind, as if he could feel the desperation in his bones and tries to remind Jae not to show it in front of Sungjin.

Jae is desperate. He needs that club, it’s an essential part of his big plan. The great big plan that fucks him up in all ways one can only imagine. Its existence is significant, even more than Sungjin can imagine. Jae gets threatened by people because they want it. Take Jennie Kim as an example, the woman that has taken Sungjin’s place in the restaurant and painted big, cruel pictures of how she’s going to steal his most precious possession just because she wants it back.

The club he has robbed her from.

Jae has looked into his book that night before his breakdown and seen her name in his notes. Seunghyun has been owner of the club but Jennie has bought some shares for a potential buy-out later. That’s not the reason why she is in Jae’s books, she is in there because of her connections to the one big man who is the true owner of the club, who incidentally is the man Sungjin wants to avoid as much as possible.

Yes, Sungjin is right insofar that he doesn’t have to fear G-Dragon’s probable attack, but now Jae has a very angry woman at his heels.

“I just think it’s better if we don’t give the sun club away. Dowoon wanted to merge it with the moon club, didn’t he?” Jae tries for a last time.

“I did,” Dowoon admits sheepishly and adds, “but I don’t think the time is right to expand my business now.”

Wonpil snaps his head towards Dowoon just as Jae does at that moment. His eyes are wide and confused, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why not?” Wonpil asks with much wonder in his voice, “I thought you’re happy about the responsibility trusted upon you.”

“I was,” Dowoon nods with a small smile. “And still am. Just the type of responsibility has changed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That was another point I wanted to talk about today,” Sungjin pitches in, “For some time now, Dowoon is preparing for taking over the entertainment section of our district, more specifically the casinos. Especially the YoungK.”

Dowoon is taking over Brian’s work? What is going on here? Is Brian leaving?

The hand is squeezing his own back hard, a thumb strokes his skin where they touch, and Jae can’t stop looking at their fingers, intertwined, and feeling that cruel and disgusting feeling that creeps up in chest and squeezes his stomach.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“But that’s Younghyun-hyung’s thing,” Wonpil voices the exact words Jae has in mind and implicates the same questions that Jae wants to scream at Brian.

Brian eventually speaks up when Sungjin motions for him to answer. His hand shifts and Jae grabs at it. He can’t let go of it.

“A few weeks ago, I proposed Sungjin to finally make something out of our connections to the people back in the States and Canada. You all remember when we left years ago for business?”

Jae remembers it vividly because he was the thing they’d brought back from there. The real question though? What connections are they talking about? They only people they were connected to lie dead on the ground of the Pacific after Brian slaughtered their whole gang because they had tried to kill Jae. Were there other people involved? He can’t remember. Fuck, why can’t he remember?

“I never thought you made connections then except for Jae-hyung.”

At least Wonpil doesn’t know more than him but god does he feel dumb now. He is Sungjin’s right hand who should know more than Sungjin and here Jae is, being Jon Snow knowing nothing. He hates it, always hated it how they all tend to forget what Jae’s position means. He is their superior (except for, well, his boss) and yet the only person they all report to is Sungjin. Dead the hierarchy, who even cares?

“I’ve been surprised, too,” Sungjin agrees and smiles proudly at Brian with that fatherly glint in his eyes, “This means, Younghyun will be absent for a long time in the future and Dowoon’s going to be his replacement for that time. Our maknae is diligently studying the books and Felix will be by his side to help where he can.”

Brian is going back to the states. Back home, oh how Jae envies him so much.

His throat feels dry and the swallow hurt, even more hurts the hand around his own. Brian’s leaving him for the one place Jae wishes to be the most. Maybe it’s childish to feel like that and maybe even more so when he snaps his hand back into his lap to escape the warmth and safety Brian emanates.

“Good, that’s it for today. A few last things though,” Sungjin announces for the ending, “Dowoon-ah, Wonpil’s going to investigate the shooting so you can focus more on your studies, alright?”

“Aye aye, boss.”

“Younghyun and Jae-hyung, I’ve talked to Jaebeom and he gave me his word that Jackson is paying the YoungK a visit tonight. So please behave and see that Jackson is talking as much as he can about his business. Don’t forget, he’s a charmer and don’t let him talk you into things again, please?”

Jae nods absentmindedly as his eyes fixate on the clock on the wall. The black hand ticks away the minutes, moving every sixty seconds, nearer and nearer to a new mark. The meeting has started at full hour straight to the twelve and ends now half an hour later at the six down, numbers printed in bold black letters on shiny white plastic. Minimalistic and cheap, nothing as expensive as the figurines lined up on the shelves next to the clock.

_Sammy is in Seoul and Brian is leaving to America._

_Stop looking for the murderer on the streets._

_It’s an inside job._

Jae is meeting Johnny Suh in half an hour at a place he doesn’t know. No one except for Chan knows about it. Maybe Jisung, too.

They still have Beomgyu in their warehouse. He should pay them a visit, asset the damage done by the fire and check on their prisoner. If Jeongguk—When Jeongguk finds out where Beomgyu is, Jae needs to be prepared. He should prevent the certain death that looms above his head for exact that case.

What Jae knows for sure; he needs a break. Take the next train to nowhere and hopefully never turn back again. Fuck meeting Johnny Suh, fuck Jackson, fuck Sungjin, fuck them all but especially fuck Brian, Younghyun, who even cares, he’s the biggest fucker of them all, getting him off that one morning, telling him that he would change everything and he loved him when all he does is planning his leave for a trip to Jae’s home.

He’s jealous and he’s hurt because even if he hates Brian so much, Brian is a) still his subordinate who has to tell him plans as such before he goes to Sungjin and b) he hasn’t asked Jae to go with him. He leaves Jae behind as always. He should have known since his back is all that Jae will ever get to see.

He can’t even storm back to his car without Brian running behind him and calling his name, a thousand ways of how to say sorry on his lips. There has been once a time where Jae would kiss them away, smile with reassurance that he loves Brian no matter what, and worship the ground the younger walks on.

Impressive how much can change throughout the years.

Because back then, it wouldn’t have felt so satisfying to see Brian’s face fall when he shuts the car door and drives away without a word. They don’t need words anymore; all things have been said anyways.

~~~

When Chan has emphasized that Johnny wished to meet Jae alone, any imaginable alarm bell in his mind went off immediately. What has Jae done to quieten them? Right. He ignored them.

Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Everything in this room is odd and Jae doesn’t know where to start because there isn’t a start per se. The room is wide and spacious, a whole floor in an empty building. A wide window front opens the space up to Seoul, not above it but not on the ground either, a middle level where you could have looked into the windows of the opposite building if it weren't for the tinted windows there. The floor in itself is white and blank. A white floor, white walls, white pillars and just one table with two chairs.

It looks like the batcave from The Dark Knight, Jae muses when he walks down the floor right to the table where Johnny is sat, his black suit combined with a deep red shirt, his hair meticulously made with not one strand out of its place.

“Thanks for finally meeting me,” Johnny starts in English, his voice velvety and sensual at the same time. It’s pitched lower than when Jae has met him for the first time. Johnny hasn’t changed much except for the aura that pours out of him. Charming, self-assuring. Where Johnny has known what he was doing before, he now appears to have all cards in his hands.

“You finally got my attention.” Jae pulls a card out of his own suit jacket. It’s the exact same card that Ten has put into his pocket back then.

Johnny only pulls one eyebrow up. The rest of his face doesn’t move an inch.

The room is as blank as Johnny Suh, a perfect representation of what Jae knows about this man.

“I see you’ve talked to him, hm?” Johnny leans forward and crosses his fingers with his unwavering gaze focused on Jae’s own blank face.

This isn’t an unusual situation for Jae. Unusual is only that Johnny is a ghost in his books. In every book.

“I know what you want,” Jae slowly leans back and relaxes, his legs spread a little wider to occupy a lot more space, “The question is, what can you offer me in turn?”

The tension is high but neither shows it. Their stares battle for domination, the conversation held in silence.

Eventually, Johnny draws back, procures an envelope out of his jacket and puts it in front of him, his long fingers pressing onto the white paper instead of sliding it over.

“What I can offer,” Johnny speaks surely and yet so sweetly. Jae likes him, how he talks no nonsense and knows what he does. “Is the best thing you need in your situation.”

Johnny knows how to play people.

“And what is this thing that I need right now?”

Johnny’s lips quirk up into a small smirk and his hands return to his lap; his posture relaxes as he leans back into his seat and crosses his legs with his head held up high.

“Park Jaehyung, born on September 15th, 1992 in Buenos Aires, Brasilia. Moved to California at five years old, attended School in Cerritos, then the UCLA to study poli-sci until he presumably died in a street fight eight days before his twenty-first birthday. In reality, he accepted Park Sungjin’s invitation to join Six and fled to Seoul to escape from Los Angeles biggest street gang. Park Jaehyung has worked hard for two years to become Six’s most powerful person right after the mob’s head and that without ever killing a man.”

Oh yes, Johnny knows how to get people on edge. His face doesn’t show any emotion and yet his eyes challenge Jae, especially as his fingers slide over the envelope towards Jae, careful and controlled, still no hair out of place. Still, Johnny isn’t finished with his small play.

“A loyal, trustworthy and hard-working man; Park Sungjin is a lucky man to have someone like you as his right hand.”

This envelope bears something big, something dangerous, as if it could destroy Jae’s whole life with a single glimpse of the wrong hands. The envelope lies lightly between his hands and his fingers glide beneath the seal to open it up. It’s a single paper in there, a list of dates and places and numbers, like a log of a very detailed surveillance. A photograph is attached on the upper left corner. If the log hasn’t already stopped Jae’s heartbeat, then the photograph pushed the last nail into his coffin.

“If only he knew that Park Jaehyung is anything but loyal.”

On the photograph, Jae is seen in his apartment, giving an envelope to none other than Kim Namjoon.

“If you’re trying to blackmail me—”

“I’m not trying to do such thing, Mister Park,” Johnny calmly sets Jae straight, “What I’m doing here is offering my service, or better said, our service. It’s time we talk about NCT.”

There it is, that mysterious organization that no one has ever hears about. Jae is curious about what their deal is, how they can stay under anyone’s radar without a clue. However, his curiosity is mixed with caution. This is what baring one’s own whole life by some stranger does.

Jae puts the picture back into the envelope and then right in front of him before his gaze wanders up to Johnny, meeting his own calculating eyes.

“Then talk.”

As you already know, Jae isn’t dumb. He has worked long enough for his mob to learn reading between the lines. Every word being spoken, no matter how insignificant it seems, carries so much more information with it. It’s the art to interpret what is being said and connect the dots properly.

“Do you know why I hold you in such high regards, Park Jaehyung?” A rhetorical question to which Jae cocks his head in interest. Johnny’s gaze never wavers from his face. “Because other than most people out there you have realized that violence, death and murder aren’t the most powerful tools a human can make use of.”

His legs are long and his jacket wafts behind him as Johnny strides over to the full window front with only a few steps and looks down with his head still held high.

“Our boss was young when he had the same epiphany and decided to make use of his knowledge. Thus, he began to search for people like him, who can perceive the world as he does and pursue the same goals as him. People like me and—”

Johnny turns his head over the shoulder and directs his look at Jae again who hasn’t moved an inch from his place.

“—you.”

People like Jae? Jae won’t deny it; there probably are people like him out there who have the same twisted morals and ethics as he, but still, there is a small part inside of him who doubts it. He hasn’t ever met a person before who has the same though process as Jae. Mobsters live their lives with a certain cliché to it, a stigma that is attached to their job.

Jae isn’t the same as other people with twisted morals who work their way up in a mob and try to wash the blood off their hands to pretend it has never been there in the first place because otherwise, they would lose it all. They don’t twist reality in so far that their own destiny is someone else’s fault instead of their own.

Johnny and Jae aren’t the same. He understands why Johnny says it and what the point of his narrative is. Just, at the bottom of the line, Jae feels worlds between Johnny and himself and that’s not because of their kill-counter.

In the end, Johnny stands in front of the window where he can look down on Seoul, but he doesn’t feel being looked down upon without feeling the destructible urge to prove his own worth to the city at the same time. Jae likes to look down onto the streets, however when he stands next to Johnny at the window, his gaze wanders up to the sky where he can only see in the reflections of the building opposite.

Right now, it doesn’t matter. Johnny is Johnny and Jae is Jae, two people with two different lives that doesn’t have their place in this conversation.

“So, NCT is an intelligence unit, right?”

Johnny nods in affirmation. “Except we don’t work for the government.”

“Ouh, so you work for the bad guys, huh?”

It’s the first time Jae sees a smile on Johnny’s face, a small smirk playing around the edges of his mouth and making the blank face so much more handsome. Jae should gear up his charm and sweep this guy off his feet when their business deal doesn’t work out.

A welcome distraction from some certain guy with foxy eyes.

“Well, our boss prides himself for being a former underling of Lee Sooman.”

“Isn’t that—”

“The man who pulled the strings behind the gods of the east? That’s him.”

The man who turned the Cassiopeia into Seoul’s brightest star on the black market, unrivaled even by G-Dragon’s sun. Cassiopeia has been the go-to nightclub if you searched for the best party experience, everything from high-class alcohol to the cleanest and best kicking drugs.

“And he then put EXO where their predecessors have been.”

When the gods descended from their thrones, EXO has been there to take everything over within a blink. All because of the one man who has long left the country ever since then.

“So, you’re trying to tell me that your boss is an honest-to-goodness mobster who turned his back to the usual torturing and killing to make his money with espionage?” Jae scoffs disbelievingly.

There it is again, a smile on Johnny’s face, this time less smirking and more proud grinning.

“More or less.” Johnny contemplates a bit before continuing. “NCT means Neo Technology Culture and is an intelligence service for criminal organization. What we offer is nothing else than information, no matter how hard it is to acquire them.”

“Knowledge is power,” Jae adds in.

“The most powerful tool humanity possesses. It’s valuable and most important in leading an underground business,” Johnny continues while he plucks a card out of his pocket. The same design as the on Ten has given him, except this time with a number scribbled beneath Johnny’s contact details. “NCT is the best on the market. I dare say even the only one of its kind.”

Jae purses his lips. “I couldn’t find anything about you guys, maybe not as good as you think.”

“Ah, what better proves how good we handle our information when there isn’t any on us in the first place?” Johnny chuckles. “You don’t go around and search for our service. We come to you and offer it.”

“You keep tabs on every gangster in Seoul? Isn’t that a bit too much work?”

“Not every gangster. Only the important ones.”

Jae rises his eyebrows. “What makes me important. I’m not the head of our small circle. Six isn’t even that big to begin with.”

“First of all, you have the YoungK which makes Six one of the biggest players out there. Secondly, you guys killed Seunghyun, a pretty bold move I dare say. And last but not least, the picture in that envelope there proves how high in the ranks you actually are.”

Jae should feel flattered that NCT deems him important enough to keep tabs on his every activity. Welcomed in a sense that they offer him their services, disturbing though because eventually, Jae hasn’t been secretive enough to keep it in the dark. If NCT has been able to surveil him, who else could do, too?

“Honestly,” Johnny starts again, “you’re lucky that for once someone has something we are interested in.”

It’s time to visit church again and thank god for his luck.

“You want Ten’s freedom in exchange for giving me information?”

That could get tricky. Ten isn’t under Jae’s authority and Dowoon is rather fond of his best income source and management system. Jae needs good arguments to convince him to let the other go.

“Giving and withholding.” When Jae’s eyebrows furrows, Johnny explains. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter how careful you are, it takes one small mistake, be it by chance or accident, to get anything out you don’t want to. Someone has seen you and tells someone who tells someone and so on. We prevent that the information reach the wrong people and in case of that do damage control.”

Johnny nods to the card between his fingers. “I wrote you another number on the card that only my customers have.”

“What if someone pays you more than I do?”

Johnny shakes his head. “You don’t have to worry. Ten is quite valuable to me, so there’s no money in the world who can overbid it. Just keep in mind that even we are fallible.”

“That’s okay, we all are just humans.” Jae puts out his hand. “I take it we have a deal? Just me, not my mob, understood?”

Johnny takes it with a smile and shakes it lightly. “We have a deal, Park Jaehyung.” He motions towards the table again. “We only need to sign a few papers to seal the deal, but then we are good to go.”

“There are a few things I’m hot to know,” Jae laughs as he walks over to the table.

“I know. And maybe I already have a few answers.”

~~~

The warehouse looks the worse for wear after the fire. A big black spot adorns the big wall next to where his drugs has been stashed. The smell is even worse, as if Wonpil has tried his hand at frying beef again. The worst thing? The warehouse is empty of drugs except for the weed that grows in another warehouse.

Where Johnny’s white and empty floor reflects perfectly NCT, the warehouse somehow portrays the deepest feelings of Jae. Burnt to nothingness, empty and black. Perfect. Maybe it’s time to actually visit a shrink.

“We threw everything away that has burnt to ashes. And then done the same to the rest that has somehow survived.”

At least Chan looks apologetically at Jae when they both assess the damage. Jisung watches them with that same smile Brian has on his face when he feels defeated.

Fuck, there’s Brian again in his head.

“I thought everything burnt down?”

Chan clears his throat before answering. Interesting. “No, not everything. A small stash has survived but after Dowoon told me it’s tainted I didn’t see any usage for them anymore.”

Jae only hums in answer. He lets his gaze sweep through the warehouse and counts the people rummaging around and unloading small palettes of drugs.

“How many have been hurt?”

“No one,” Jisung pipes in with a small smile.

“People attacked our warehouse and set everything on fire, but no one is hurt?”

He only gets confused shrugs as an answer. His gut squeezes when he thinks about the implications. It either means that his people have been really lucky or that someone actively tried not to hurt them (a rather dumb move except—). Jae knows exactly what this means.

“What about our little prisoner?”

The walk to the makeshift cell is short without the whole things and people in his way. Chan is less talkative than anytime else, and Jae is glad Jisung isn’t talking much. His head is threatening with a headache that soon will come anyways.

Beomgyu scrambles off the floor when Jae opens the door and heaves a sigh when only Jae enters and closes the door behind him. Cue for the staring contest before Jae breaks the silence.

“I honestly have forgotten about you, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu snorts at the admission and crosses him arms. Jae is relieved to see that Chan can follow his orders to not touch the guy. Beomgyu looks much better than last time, his wounds have healed up and his skin took on a much better tone even though it has lightened over the weeks. His cheeks seem to be hollower but not to the point where Jae has to start worry about it.

“What do you want?” Beomgyu asks with a sneer.

Jae rises his hands in innocence. “I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, I figured out why you’re here.”

“It only took you weeks,” the younger snorts and leans back against the wall.

“To my defense, it took me a few days to realize that you’re one of Namjoon’s men. Maybe it reassures you to know that Jeon Jeongguk has already threatened me because he’s been searching for you.”

“Hyung is only looking out for us.”

“Hard to believe that someone calls him hyung. He looks like a baby.”

“Watch it!” Beomgyu glowers at Jae.

“Like you. I’m probably a decade older than you and find it cute when you try to look threatening.” Jae chuckles.

“Are you here to insult me or what?”

“Ah, no, I’m actually here for something else.”

When Beomgyu has first arrived here in his warehouse, Jae has been confused who was snooping around in his business. This has been before Namjoon has informed him that someone called Beomgyu will be placed in Six as some kind of mole along with someone else. That information came in too late and now Jae has forgotten him for too long. It has been during his talk with Johnny when the other gave him an idea on how to use Beomgyu perfectly.

This leads to now when he withdraws a smartphone from his pocket and holds it out to the younger. Beomgyu looks skeptically first at the phone and then to Jae while his eyebrow rises up.

“This is how it’s going now. You’re staying here in the warehouse and report to me every suspicious thing. And you’re playing messenger between me and Namjoon-ssi.”

Beomgyu hesitantly takes the phone between his fingers. “Why shouldn’t I use it to betray you, huh?”

“Don’t betray Namjoon-ssi. I’ve already talked to him and he knows that you’re here. I just need you for some personal things as well.”

“You want me as a mole under your own people. What exactly are you hoping for?”

Jae is hoping for the best. That he doesn’t hear from Beomgyu at all. Neither because he finds something suspicious nor because Namjoon wants something else from him. His work life is finally lifting up a bit with Johnny’s help now.

“I tell Chan to let you out of here but not to let you out of sight. If you do only one suspicious thing…” He points with his fingers against Beomgyu’s head before he turns around and leaves the room.

Chan and Jisung jump at him storming down the floor, the clock ticking down with the time he doesn’t have now. It’s time for the best part of his day.

“Jisung, you’re coming with me. And Chan, this is what you’re going to do with the boy in there—”

~~~

Friday nights are when Brian’s business blooms the most. Friday is the end of a long hard work week; nights are the darkest hours of the day to finally slide off the mask and come undone in the shadows. Fridays and nights in combination escalate in a sweet, sweet chaos where people meet up to let steam off and try to ride on their highs.

As a college student Jae loved Friday nights, especially his weekly movies nights with Hajoon and jam sessions with Sammy, be it in their dorms, on a house party or in the small pub where he has met Brian. Jae drank to forget the hard week of college, kissed boys (and then only Brian) to get the sweet attention he has craved for too long, and lastly fucked the stress out of his body (again, Brian proved himself as the perfect partner to do so). The clubs got shadier with every week, the people even worse, but Jae didn’t care at all (especially not when Brian literally sucked his brains out one mesmerizing night in a side alley).

As a mobster, Jae still loves Friday nights because that’s when the funny part of his job starts. He goes to parties, to clubs, to casinos and drinks and kisses and sometimes fucks and even gets a good deal at the end of the night. Sometimes it’s a poor soul who borrows money with interest rates that are impossible to pay off, most times it’s money that he gets back from said interests. A few times in between it ends with blood on the floor and Wonpil making a lot of jokes to distract Jae from the corpse on the floor (and to close the circle, Jae fucking Wonpil to forget the happenings on said night).

Today proves to be one of the good Friday nights with some pro and cons. Pro, Jae is currently on his way into a casino to have some fun and make a good deal. Con, it’s the YoungK and he makes the deal with Jackson. Pro, he looks very attractive with the first three buttons of his blue shirt unbuttoned, his hair toned a deep wine red again for a night and make-up on fleek. Con, Brian will probably try to suck at his neck again because he has a thing for his collarbones (what the hell, Jae, where’s the con in that, says a voice that suspiciously sounds like Wonpil. Oh, right, that’s what he said when he did Jae’s make up and Jae listed off the pros and cons of the night).

The YoungK is bustling with people, laughing and cheering and drinks clinking, and Jae feels like arriving home when he enters the place. A waiter immediately brings him a glass champagne and presses it into Jae’s and Jisung’s (who has to accompany Jae if he wants to or not) hands, sparkling and sour and just perfect.

“Why am I even here?” Jisung asks with a grimace on his face after he tastes the champagne.

Jae only swallows it with two big gulps and puts the glass down on the tablet of a passing by waiter before he strides further into the room and lets his gaze sweep around in hopes of seeing Jackson.

“Only two things,” Jae says to Jisung without looking at the other, “Play a game and clean those people out, have fun, whatsoever. But, and this is important, keep an eye on me. You’re my bodyguard for the night.”

“I’m what?”

Jisung looks downright adorable with those big eyes and his cute little button nose. He’s cuter than Brian has been. Now Jae feels bad for dragging him here as his bodyguard.

“Chan told me you’re good at blackjack and you’d want to work here instead as a drug lord’s assistant. This is my treat. Play as much as you want and bring me a lot of money.” Jae smiles cheekily at Jisung whose face breaks into a fat grin. He only needs to shoo at him before Jisung runs off to the next table to play with the rich and beautiful. The table furthest on the right, blackjack. Hopefully he doesn’t change tables that night.

And hopefully Jackson arrives soon enough. Sungjin has promised him that Jackson is going to be here; at the same time, Jackson not always does what Jaebeom wants him to. Jae understands the sentiment only too well; his own people won’t respect his wishes, too.

When he doesn’t find someone who resembles Jackson, he makes his way over to the bar where the barkeeper already pours one of his delicious cocktails into a glass just for Jae. He even puts a little umbrella into the drink. Jae nods in thanks and takes place with his body turned towards the casino to keep an eye on the people and look out for a certain casino owner he doesn’t want to talk to – now or ever.

“If you’re looking for me, I’m right here.”

Maybe he goes away when Jae ignores his existence. He sips calmly at his tequila sunrise, fully aware of the finger that glides along the skin of his neck up towards his ear where he flicks it. A small giggle erupts from the man behind him, a sound that still does things to Jae’s heart.

“Jackson isn’t here and won’t be for a few hours. I’ve asked Felix to contact his assistant for further details.”

Maybe next time Brian could just redirect his messages directly to Jae, so he won’t be too early.

“You would have ignored my messages, so I didn’t even try to inform you.”

Can he read his mind now?

It doesn’t work to ignore him. Jae can just as well tell him to fuck off with his wandering fingers on his skin. And no, those are not goosebumps on there!

“What do you want, Brian?”

A thumb presses into his neck, right there where his muscle is knotted and hurts, and Jae is reminded of Brian’s magical fingers. Magical in every way. Jae barely refrains from groaning out loud at how good it feels.

“You look a little bit stressed out, hyung.”

“It’s Friday night and I’m about to meet Jackson after a hell of a week. Of course, I’m stressed out.”

Jae lets his head fall onto his chest and gives Brian more space to rub on his shoulders. This feels too good to not enjoy it properly. Even back then Brian used to massage his shoulders when Jae worked hours on his assignments or lost himself in his guitar playing for too long so that his muscles began to ache painfully. His rubs were followed by fluttering kisses along his skin up until that sweet spot behind his ear and Jae would die before he admits that he kind of misses those caresses.

“I have fond memories of Friday nights,” Brian whispers into his ear with that deep breathy voice. “We’ve met on a Friday night, remember?”

Jae does remember. Sammy who has persuaded him with puppy eyes and dragged him into the pub where he has heard Brian sing for the first time ever. It was love on the first note for Jae and his heart never stopped beating for the tones Brian is able to make.

“If you think about it, all of our first times happened on a Friday night,” Brian sounds wistfully. A sad undertone hidden beneath the seductive whisper.

But Jae is distracted by the massage and the lips scraping against his ears. Why is he still so whipped for Brian? Isn’t he mad at him?

“Our first kiss, our first date, our first-time sex. All on a Friday night.”

A kiss right behind his ear.

Jae suddenly jumps in his seat and shrugs the hands from his shoulders. For further safety measures, he turns his body and glares at the sheepishly smiling black-haired man with dark fox eyes.

_Those eyes, god._

“Hey, no, I’m still mad at you!” Jae grabs for his next drink, good barkeeper, knows what Jae needs (he only got used to the usual banter between Jae and Brian whenever they meet at his bar). “We have boundaries, okay? You’re going to leave for home and I’m staying here, so, no kisses, no blowjobs, no sex, understood?”

Brian throws him a calculated gaze. “America is still home for you?”

“Is this the part you want to focus on?” Brian only shrugs at him. “Of course, America is my home, that’s where my friends and parents are.”

“Aren’t we your friends, too?”

“Wonpil is my friend, Dowoon is my friend, heck, even Chan and Jisung are my friends. I have a lot of friends. But you, Brian Kang,” Jae presses his finger against Brian’s chest, “You are not my friend. You lost your friend privileges when you left me.”

Brian cocks his head and furrows his eyebrows. “Why are you still so hung up on our break-up? It’s been years now.”

That guy is fucking with him, right? There’s no other explanation. Jae can’t think of one reason why he shouldn’t be hung up on their break-up. That’s what people do when their break-up was kind of bad.

“Oh, let me think for a minute,” Jae shrieks appalled. “Maybe because you claimed that I’m the love of your life and played the perfect boyfriend while you were a fucking mobster all the time and didn’t tell me? Or maybe because when I accepted your shady job and even went with you to Seoul, you didn’t look me into the eye anymore as if I’m something to be ashamed of? Or maybe because when I needed you the most, in a country whose language I couldn’t understand properly and whose culture is still alien to me, you left me bleeding on a street after some punks nearly killed me? Or maybe because when I forgave you for every fucking shit you did you just left me without a word?

“No why, no reasons, just from one moment to the other gone. I’d be dead out there if Wonpil hasn’t been there to pick up what was left of me. You made my life shit to the point where I thought that living is my punishment for falling in love with you. You took everything that I had and then I didn’t even have you, you fucking piece of shit who now has the audacity to try to get into my pants all the time and tell me that he loved me?”

It’s only when Brian’s hand cup his face and his thumbs swipe against his cheek that Jae realizes that he is crying. His tears leave black marks running down until they meet the thumbs. Jae looks up into Brian’s eyes, glinting with unshed tears and a furrow between his brows.

Brian, without a doubt, is still as beautiful as the first day Jae has met him. That what hurts the most, that the person Jae has met back then, the normal exchange student who played music to express his deepest thoughts, who wore a bandana to keep his long blond hair from his face only for it to fall down over his eyes and block his view (and Brian still aced the performance), who smiled at Jae as if he found the meaning of life in his eyes; that this person is the same one who kills people for money and has no qualms about leaving the wounded alone on a street.

Brian is a master of deception who has played Jae all the time. Have the smiles been lies all the time? At the end of the day, it wasn’t Brian that he looked forward to, it was Younghyun who still smiled sweetly at Jae as if he is the meaning of his life. Where Brian had betrayed him, Younghyun has been there to pick Jae back up. Jae knows that Brian and Younghyun are the same person, but Jae refuses to accept it. It isn’t like that.

“One day, I’ll explain everything to you,” Brian, Younghyun, Brian, Younghyun(?) tries to soothe him. “I promise you that I make my amends with you. Just bear with me a bit longer, Jae.”

“Fuck you!”

Jae shoves Brian away and takes his chance to flee at Brian’s surprise. He hurries over to the men’s restroom and rubs at his skin to dry off his tears. Hopefully Brian gets the memo and doesn’t follow him in here.

The restroom is, thankfully, empty and Jae takes the silence to breathe in deeply. His life is a sob story if it progresses in that pace. First his breakdown last night about his fucked-up life and today his breakdown about Brian breaking up with him. Jae hasn’t subscribed to be part of a Korean drama when he had accepted Sungjin’s job offer.

Jae splashes water on his face and hopes to get rid of the black stains, rubs hard at his eyes and tries to salvage his make-up before he looks like a panda.

“Can I help—woah!”

When someone suddenly puts a hand on his shoulder and speaks up, Jae jumps and reacts on instinct. He is currently holding his weapon against the boy’s forehead and breathing hard in panic. The boy is oddly calm for having a gun aimed at him.

“Sorry, it hasn’t been my intention to scare you.”

The boy puts up his hands to show that he isn’t dangerous, and Jae cautiously lowers his gun, his breath finally caught, and heart calmed down. This is one hundred percent owned to the fact that the boy looks like a younger version of Wonpil. And Jae has heard his voice before but can’t remember where.

“Have we met before?”

“Ah, my name’s Kim Seungmin, nice to meet you.” Seungmin bows deep in front of Jae.

The name rings a bell.

“You’re Jackson’s assistant, right? I’m Park Jaehyung.”

Seungmin’s eyes widen when Jae introduces himself. His cheeks color red in a blush and Jae is thoroughly endeared by the young boy.

“Jaehyung-ssi, I’m honored to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you from Jackson-hyung and Jinyoung-hyung. Only good things, though!”

Good things his ass. Park Jinyoung would rather die than talk good about anyone and while Jackson would do such thing, he never takes Jae serious and ridicules of the older. If only Jae was Korean-born and values the tradition of respecting your elders, Jackson wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I take it that Jackson’s finally here?”

At least one thing that works today. Jae rubs his cheeks again, careful as not to open up any scratches, and frowns on the dark spots that colors his skin.

“Ah, let me help you, Jaehyung-ssi.”

A miracle, that’s what Seungmin is. The boy procures make-up wipes from his back and hands them to Jae together with a small pouch where mascara and eye-make up is safely stored in. A small smile makes its way on Jae’s face and Seungmin beams at him cutely when he helps Jae to put it on.

It takes only a few minutes until Jae looks presentable again with his cheeks glimmering under the bathroom light.

“Highlighter.” Seungmin smiles proudly at the result. “So that no one can look away from your dazzling looks.”

While it feels odd to receive such a compliment from a too young boy, Jae feels a bit embarrassed and ducks his head, yet thankful for the help. He says as much to Seungmin with a cheeky smile to mask the insecurity he feels.

“Jackson-hyung is in quite a good mood today. He’s open for suggestions and tries to help where he can.” Jae nods as he takes in Seungmin’s small advices while they make their way over to one of the tables. “If he gets angry or upset, just talk about Mark-hyung.”

“Mark-hyung?” Mark Tuan, calm, shy and not talking much, the American of Jaebeom’s inner circle. A policeman who works as an insider, a valuable asset in their business.

Seungmin nods and puts his finger against his lips, leaning forward to whisper to Jae, “You haven’t heard from me but Jackson-hyung and Mark-hyung meet every night off-work to have a small ‘chat’, if you know what I mean.”

Ah, it’s like _that_. Who knew that someone as loud and petty as Jackson finds something in someone like quiet and shy Mark? It’s endearing and maybe a small part of Jae is happy for them.

There’s just one thing that bothers Jae since he has met Seungmin.

“Why are you telling me all these things? Not that I’m ungrateful, just… You’re working for our rival gang. You just told me one of Jackson’s weaknesses.”

In response, Seungmin purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows, his shoulders shrugging. “You sounded nice on the phone. And I’m sort of a… fan, you know?”

A fan? How can someone be a fan of Jae? Scratch that, how can someone be a fan of a mobster? Sure, with the fitting demographic and background young boys can have mobsters as role models. It’s just, Jae is bad at being a gangster and Seungmin is working for Jackson Wang.

“I’m… Thank you?” Maybe he shouldn’t think too much about it. It’s his fault in a way since he has flirted with the boy when he called. “Just a small advice from me: Only because you have a crush on someone doesn’t mean that you can trust him. Just don’t go and tell people about Jackson’s life and personality. It’ll end badly if you tell the wrong people.”

Seungmin’s response gets cut short by a loud victory shout and several people cheering. Jackson is currently sitting at the blackjack table with three other people, one of them Jisung. Brian hovers behind their guest and watches the game with his cheerful customer service smile.

“Ah, Park Jaehyung!” Jackson waves him over with a chip between his fingers. His many rings shine in the light just like the chains around his neck. Jackson looks expensive and the woman behind him begin to swoon when he winks at one of them. “Come and join the game!” He throws a nasty glance to the older man next to him who hurries off the seat with an unkind frown and sweat on his temple.

The seat is warm when Jae takes place on it and he holds back the grimace. Jisung glances at him but doesn’t pay any further attention. Brian suddenly moves behind Jae and Jackson with his hand perched on Jae’s shoulder. Jackson eyes at him challengingly as he places his bet and Jae does the same, Brian’s hand on the foreground of his mind.

“Don’t be too sad if you lose, hyung,” Jackson teases him with a smirk on his lips.

The dealer shuffles the cards while everyone places their bets and Jae lets his gaze wander around the table. Jackson, him, another elder man with nearly closed eyes as if he is an old anime character who has gambled since forever, Jisung and another young boy whom Jae is very familiar with.

The boy has been here before; the night when Kai had entered Brian’s office to bring Jae Namjoon’s message. He is one of Namjoon’s boys, Kang Taehyun, younger than Jisung and probably here to keep an eye on… the YoungK? Namjoon’s smarter than Jae suspected him to be.

Just when their gazes meet, Jae looks pointedly away and picks up the cards that have been dealt, Brian’s fingers slightly squeezing him as he sees the mediocre hand Jae has. A queen and a three. Jisung raises the bet, Taehyun and the old man are out, Jackson and Jae go along. The dealer gives out another round of card and shit, Jae’s busted with the nine that adds to his hand.

Three rounds like that follow, Jackson winning two and the old man one of them, Jae and Jisung losing all of them. The tension is high when the stakes get higher with each round. Brian fingers do things on his shoulders that Jae tries to ignore but isn’t able to; his mind is running on high speed to figure out what the fingers try to tell him.

When Jae’s hand is bad, he gets a light squeeze. When his hand is good, it’s a small caress. Subtle and barely visible if you don’t look too hard at it. The problem is Jae knows how good his hand is or not. He doesn’t need Brian’s signs. Which leads now to the question: what the hell is Brian trying to tell him?

His next hand consists of a king and a ten, his highest hand so far. He moves to raise the bet but feels a sudden pull on his jacket and a following caress. He whips his head around to glare at Brian who counters it with an innocent smile.

“There was dust on your jacket, I only plugged it off.”

The table waits for Jae’s move whereas Jae in turn is still busy with Brian’s odd signals. He licks his lips and considers his options. His chances at winning are high, it’s only natural that he goes higher with his bet. Why shouldn’t he do so?

Just to be safe, he rises his bet slightly, not as high as he first wanted to. Everyone goes with him. He doesn’t take another card. The cards are revealed. Jackson wins with a twenty-one.

“Younghyun-hyung, why don’t you play with us?” Jackson rises one eyebrow at Brian as his lips form a light scowl on his face. “You and Jae-hyung aren’t exactly subtle with the little signs.”

Or maybe someone has seen them. Maybe Jackson can play interpreter for him and tell him what exactly Brian wants from Jae.

“The table is unfortunately fully occupied. I can’t exactly chase away my precious visitors, can I?” Brian’s smile is right in place as he doesn’t even deny his cheating.

Jackson only turns away from Brian to the old man playing, his one-hundred-watt smile tugging at his lips. “The old man surely doesn’t mind taking a little break and watch the great Kang Younghyun doing what he can best, right?”

Jae snorts loudly because Jackson hit the nail right on its head. Brian’s good at playing, but best at cheating. That thing just now with the hand on Jae’s shoulder has been one of his worst tricks. Maybe it is Jae’s fault, maybe not but who cares. Jae doesn’t.

(Jae’s heart gives up at this point to make the small remark of how wrong the last sentence has been.)

The old man vacates his seat with a small grumble because people in here know not to mess with the owner. Word gets around and soon, the table is void of lookers except for Seungmin behind Jackson’s shoulder.

They play a round, Brian winning without breaking a sweat before Jackson raises his voice again.

“Let’s talk about business, Jae-hyung.”

“Not with the other people at the table.”

Jackson snorts. “Which people do you mean? The one boy who waits for the big bet before he rips me off with those cards in his sleeves, or the other boy who only makes mediocre bets to stay as long as possible at this table here. And I guess that the dealer can be deemed trustworthy if you consider how he manipulates the deck to Younghyun-hyung’s advantage.”

Jae throws his cards open, a queen and an eight, not the best hand at the table. He leans back in his chair and cocks his head, a sheepish smile because Jackson’s right. Everyone here at the table is trying to fuck someone over, be it Brian, Jisung or Taehyun. Jae included.

“Okay, Jisung’s one of ours,” Jae confesses and nods towards said boy who smirks at Jackson, “the other isn’t. It would be better if he fucks off, too.”

The whole table watches how Taehyun quietly leaves the game with a short nod only. He doesn’t stray too far though, tapping away at his phone—reporting to Namjoon that Jackson’s here most probably.

“Let’s play.”

Jackson then motions for the dealer to shuffle the deck again. He sips at the cocktails that somehow stands between him and the empty seat which reminds Jae that he wants a drink too.

“And better not cheat again, dealer. I want a fair and clean game. Seungmin-ah, join in.”

Great business talk they do during the two rounds of blackjack. No one has said a word. At least Jae’s drink has found its way to him, a sweet deep-red wine, the best pick of Brian’s wine cellar. The game’s all fun and all but Jae has never been a real player. He knows how to gamble, knows how to cheat (the advantages of having a hustler as your boyfriend for years) and how to be good at the game. He hasn’t won a game for long, not even on this day, and he doesn’t care about it at all. The game itself isn’t fun for Jae and it drags on and on. Seungmin isn’t good at playing and loses Jackson’s money while Jisung proves his skills at the table and wins both rounds for himself.

The third round starts when Jae can’t bear it anymore and breaks the tense silence.

“Okay, let’s talk about business. I want something from you and we both know that. No reason to hold out on me any further.”

The whole table knows at this point what Jackson tries to accomplish. His stalling only serves one purpose; he tests Jae’s patience until Jae loses his temper and is blind for the small conditions that Jackson will wiggle in. It’s the usual technique, one he uses all the same and one that is quite effective with Jae since he doesn’t have the patience.

“If you want some drugs, then my answer’s no. I know what happened to your stash and I’m truly sorry about it.” Jackson throws chips into the middle and Jisung follows without a breath. “But I also heard that Sungjin ran to EXO and got some contacts from Park Chanyeol. I hope you understand that I don’t see any reason to share some of mine.”

Time to shine.

“But here’s the thing, Jackson.” Jae gets out of the game even though he has a perfect twenty-one in his hand. He leans towards Jackson and smiles up at the younger charmingly. “We got some contacts from Park Chanyeol and you know what that means? Exactly what I said. We have contacts from none other than Seoul’s best drug business.”

“Do you mean you have contacts to the Cassiopeia?” Jisung pipes in as he collects his winning sum. “Chan always raves how drugs from their establishment are like the best experience ever.”

Such a good boy. Jae motions to Jisung in a ‘exactly what I said’ manner whereas Jackson huffs a short laugh.

“Chan doesn’t take drugs,” he states matter-of-factly before he takes up his new hand and sips at his cocktail. “But he’s right; the Cassiopeia is the hot spot for Seoul’s best drugs. I’m not sure about the contacts. How does Sungjin know that the contact is not a dead end when he hasn’t received them yet? Chanyeol-ssi has many contacts and only a few come from the Cassiopeia. It’s more Sehun-ssi’s style.”

“The contact _is_ from the Cassiopeia, I checked it earlier.”

Jae’s head snaps towards Brian because he hasn’t actually said what Jae thinks he had, has he? Why has Sungjin given him the contact details and not Jae? Jae is his right hand, Jae is the drug lord in their gang, Jae knows the people. Jae, not Brian _._ This is an insult, and Jae is furious. If it’s really the truth and Sungjin has overlooked him again, Jae is going to explode.

For now, he only grits his teeth and hopes no one sees the tension in his jaw. His hand is balled to a fist where the cards crinkle which doesn’t matter though, he has lost the round anyway. Maybe Brian sees how his words have affected him if his confused glance is anything to go by.

“So, what is it that you propose?” Jackson asks Jae directly.

Something is wrong. Utterly, thoroughly wrong. Jae can feel it prickle on his skin and gnaw at his bones. His stomach falls and bile rises in his throat while his heart hammers against his chest. Something is going to happen. He can’t say exactly what and why, just that it is going to happen. As if everything has worked up until that moment.

He needs to concentrate, what is the question again? Right, right.

“What I propose is to work together. Like a symbiose, we swap contacts and maybe have the chance to rival EXO.”

There are a lot of things that Jae has anticipated as Jackson’s reaction. A full-on body laugh attack hasn’t been one of them.

Behind Jackson’s back, Taehyun throws him a glance and moves his lips.

“A merger? You propose we merge our drug business? Are you out of your mind? We’re rivalling mobs.”

He doesn’t understand. What is Taehyun saying? His mouth forms the words again and again, but it doesn’t help that the boy is moving nervously on the spot.

“It isn’t that far-fetched, Jackson-ssi,” Jisung answers when Jae doesn’t, “I want to be honest with you. We have problems with our drug business and your help is maybe our only chance to regain our feet.”

“Jisung!” Brian cuts in when the younger talks too much.

It is actually Jae’s task to persuade Jackson. Jae has more experience and wouldn’t give his hand away like Jisung just did, but Jae is still busy with interpreting Taehyun’s mouthing. A-something. It’s a-something-a.

“I know that you have problems. Someone’s meddling with your business and I’m glad that it isn’t mine. As much as I want to help you, I can’t. What you want is something Jaebeom-hyung has to agree to. Maybe I can talk to him and see what I can do but I can’t promise anything.”

When Jae doesn’t get the word, Taehyun motions with his head towards a man in a black suit with sunglasses perched on his nose. Said man walks through the room with his hand pressed against his side, as if he is reading himself for something.

“And this is all we ask from you.” Brian thanks him.

Oddly, he isn’t the only one walking like this. There are several men dressed the same as him, the same stance, the same aura around them. Taehyun storms out of the casino.

“Is everything alright, Jaehyung-ssi?”

Seungmin’s question brings him back to the conversation. Jae turns back and sees the other eyeing him confusedly or worryingly. Jae opens his mouth to answer but then sees it behind Brian, that woman stalking up to him with that perfectly colored red lips and dark eyes that meet with his own.

His heart misses a beat and the next when his mind jumps back to when he has met her for the first time. Her determined gaze has been the same as now, cold and dark, red lips forming the words that have Jae strung since back then in the restaurant.

“I want the sun club in my possession,” Jennie Kim has told him then with a pointed finger slamming against the table. “Otherwise I’m going to take the most precious thing away from you. You have until Friday night or something bad is going to happen.”

And now, at this Friday night, she is here in the casino and gaze locked on Jae in a challenge. Her arm rises with a black and small gun between her fingers and Jae panics when he sees her target. The barrel aims precisely at his head, at Brian’s head, and her finger tenses to make the shot and Jae—

“Get down!”

Jae throws himself at Brian and wrestles him to the ground at the same time as the bullet shoots through the air. Someone screams and not soon after several men bare their jackets to pull their guns out.

Chaos ensues.

Jackson kicks the table over for coverage and starts the fire from his side and Brian’s security guards start to take action as well. Brian shoves Jae off his frame to shoot an attacker into his head when he approaches them quickly. Jisung hovers behind them and defends Jae as Jae has told him before.

“Get into safety!” Brian shouts over the shooting to Jae and pushes Jisung out of line.

Jisung scrambles off the floor with Seungmin in his tow while Jae—

Well, Jae has to fight against flashbacks from the shooting in the bar. The situation is the same only now the space is wider and there are more innocent people in here. An innocent woman falls down on the floor in his eyesight, her blue eyes wide open as red blood flows over face from a bullet wound in her head.

Jae swallows a deep breath and gets dragged up from Jisung, then shoved into the ground again when someone shoots and suddenly, a piercing scream next to him. Jisung falls to the ground and clutches his shoulder. Seungmin is right by his side and ducks down in time behind the table.

“Jaehyung-ssi!” Seungmin bellows as Jae nearly gets hit by a bullet.

It is at this moment when Jae finally gets his shit together and the world starts turning in normal time again. The deafening shrill is tuned out by the screams and runs of the people, the fire not ceasing. Glasses break on the floor and towers of chips crumble; people crash into tables and chairs.

Jisung groans in pain and yet pulls himself together. He disregards the blood staining his white shirt and brings up his weapon to take one of the attackers down. How many of them are even here? Jae gets his own gun from his belt and aims towards anyone who dares to near them.

He never pulls the trigger though.

Instead, when one of them stands next to their table, Jae hits him hard against the head and the man turns around with a loud groan when Jisung hits him directly into the chest with a perfectly aimed shot.

“We need to get out of here, Jae-hyung!”

Jae doesn’t care that he has to get out of here. Jennie is here because of one reason and it’s Jae fault if something happens to him. He needs to find Brian and that yesterday. It proves to be difficult to search for someone during a shoot-out.

“Have you seen Brian, Jisung?”

“No, but he’s a big boy, he can take care of himself!”

Jae only pushes Jisung away when the younger pulls at his jacket and even combined with Seungmin they can’t stop Jae from jumping up and running to the next thrown over table in hopes of finding Brian.

It’s the only thing his mind can think of; _protect Brian, no matter what_. In his run he ignores the bullets flying towards him, shoves bystanders out of the way and ignores Jisung’s pleading cries to come back. His heart picks up its speed when he sees Jennie doing the same as him, searching for the casino owner being lost somewhere in this battle.

It’s a run against the time, the person who finds Brian first is the winner of their little dispute. As if Jae would give her what she wants, especially since he technically doesn’t own the club anymore.

“Brian!” Jae tries the old way to search for someone; desperately shouting the name in hopes of getting an answer.

Wait, that would be bad because Jennie then knows it, too. Shit. What should he do?

The piercing sounds of police sirens bellow through the air and fuck, this isn’t something Jae wants to deal with right now. The police would only ignite the fire even more, like oil meeting the burning flames of chaos.

“Jae!”

A sudden shove into his side pushes all air out of Jae’s lungs and he finds himself on the floor again, in the warm embrace of none other than Brian who busies himself with firing a few shots before he turns back to Jae again.

“What the hell are you still doing here?! I told you to get out!”

Jae presses his hands against Brian’s chest to get off the floor and yet pulls the other back down when he wants to stand up again. Jennie can’t find him, not when Jae has found him before her.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault, you need to get out here, fast!” Jae rambles as he throws a glance over the table but can’t find Jennie in that fleeting gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just—it’s not important, just get out of here!”

“Not without you.”

And with that, Brian takes Jae hand and resurfaces from behind the table, his gun in front of him to protect Jae from any attacks. Jae in turn looks the other way when there she is in all her glory, cold and calculated gaze aimed directly at them, her gun glinting in the light. Her weapon is straight aimed at Brian who doesn’t see her, unaware of the fate that is about to meet him.

Thus, as the world narrows down to this moment – only Jae, Brian and Jennie— Jae does the only thing he can think of. He pulls his own gun, aims, pulls the trigger at the same time as Jennie does and—

Bang.

A body crashes to the floor, blood flows from the forehead down to the marble floor, staining Jae’s black and white world in deep, deep red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! I really love Johnny in this story and the thing he has going on with him. Made it fun to write him.
> 
> Next week: Interlude: The world I lived in has flipped over, inside out, because of you. Right is left, left is right.
> 
> We're gonna get some more insights into Jae and Younghyun's relationship plus the aftermath of what has happened so far.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Interlude: The world I lived in has flipped over, inside out, because of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Day6 - Sweet Chaos
> 
> *Me regretting that my chapters are so long because I need hours to proof read them*
> 
> Fun fact: I wanted to call this ff Sweet Chaos at first but then decided against it. Funnily enough the working title and the document name on my laptop is still WARNING because I couldn't stop listening to that song while writing.

“ _The world I lived in has flipped over, inside out, because of you. Right is left, left is right_.”

Jae pursed his lips as he read the lines again and again, the first verse of what would be a whole song in some time, depending on how much time Brian will find for it. Jae had many notes lying around in his room; Sammy was on his case for a long time now that he should clean up or maybe just collect them at one place and not literally everywhere.

However, Jae liked how he could find lyrics anywhere he set his gaze on. It was Brian’s own mark he left in his life and everyone already knew how much Jae was in love with said boy. Marks on his body were great and all that, but seeing how Brian left traces of himself in his life made Jae’s heart swell with love. Not to start with the whole butterflies in his stomach thing.

“Sweet Chaos,” Brian suddenly spoke up from his place on Jae’s too small bed, plucked the paper from between Jae’s fingers and put it back into his notebook that, while doing so, was losing another crumbled note. When Jae cocked his head, Brian elaborated. “The song’s going to be called sweet chaos. Because that’s how I feel since I met you.”

“Now I’m even more confused.”

Brian bellowed a happy laugh that made Jae grin wide. The older pushed the notebook out of Brian’s hand to cuddle his way into an embrace. Brian’s chest was the most comfortable place in the world, no one could fight him on this opinion.

“I thought I had my life sorted out, y’know? Traveled from Seoul to Canada and then to South Cali and suddenly, you’re there in this bar and I thought maybe I haven’t really sorted out anything.” Brian pressed a kiss against Jae’s head, his arms tightening around his lanky frame. “When I met you, it was the worst thing that could happen to me in the best way. I've never thought that I fall in love with some random American boy in a shady bar. I had this plan to stay here for a semester or two and then return back to Seoul to start the life I was supposed to ever since I’ve been a child.”

Jae hit Brian against his chest at the low-key insult thrown at him, but Brian only chuckled and was completely unbothered by it.

“So, I am the worst thing that happened to you?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean, instead of living my planned life, I met you and that was… chaos in a way. Love is so sweet because you make me feel those things, those—you know—”

“Very eloquent for a lyricist.”

“—look who’s talking,” Brian chuckled, booping Jae's nose. “What I was saying— love is sweet but at the same time chaos because suddenly, everything changed and I started to question my whole future. Like, what am I going to do when I have to return home? I’m not the same man I was when I left Seoul or even Canada, I’m someone entirely new. I’m… a better version of myself, I dare say. You make me a better version of myself. It’s only natural that I start to doubt if what I envisioned for my future is the right thing for the new Younghyun.”

“That’s so odd to hear your Korean name,” Jae mumbled against Brian’s chest. “But I get what you’re trying to say. You make me a better version of myself, too.”

“Do I?”

If Jae hadn’t been so sleepy in that moment and paid more attention to Brian, maybe then he would have heard the doubt in his voice. As if Brian had known for a long time that he would be the reason that Jae would discover his worst version.

The Jae back then, the one who was gradually nodding off against Brian’s chest, hadn’t been none the wiser after their small conversation. Even now after years have passed, Jae still sometimes thinks back to the moment of bliss right before everything went to hell. The lyrics are haunting him, just like this little confession of Brian.

Did Brian ever finish writing the song?

“Jae?” Brian asked in a whisper when Jae had nearly succumbed to slumber. “Can you call me by my real name?”

“Younghyun?”

“Yeah.” Younghyun’s voice hitched slightly. “I want you to know the real me. I’m always going to be Younghyun for you, okay?”

The lie still hurts to this day.

~~~

The standard procedure is something completely new for Jae. Not once in his mobster career has he been arrested by the police. The moments between Jae and Jennie pulling the triggers of their guns and his arrival at the local police station are blurred; he only remembers red, red and more red.

Numbness takes over his mind and his body works on autopilot. His thoughts are white noise and everything feels as if he is underwater. The noises sound dumb and words muffled, movements are slowed down as if the world stopped turning. Step to step, Jae experiences everything in flashes, the time in between a simple blank to him.

A policeman pulls him up from his knees on the marble floor of the casino, then suddenly shoves him into a car with a hand on his head. The cuffs press into his skin, even more so when he is dragged into the local police station. His body gets pat-downed, his information noted on a paper with lies that roll easily off his tongue, his fingers dipped into ink, his picture taken from three different angles – he must look like a mess with his hair sticking out in every direction, the black rings under his eyes and the blood splatters all over his face and body, a mixture of Jisung, Younghyun and his own blood —before he is shoved into the small interrogation room.

He doesn’t talk, only looks at the table in front of him while the cuffs scratch against his wrist with every breath he takes. A random policewoman is trying to interrogate him, but Jae doesn’t hear a word she says.

His mind always wanders back to scene of the night, playing like a gif on loop and mocking him with every frame. His fingers pull the trigger, two shots being made, a body being pierced, a scream following. Blood on the floor, blood on him, Younghyun’s wide brown eyes staring up to him and mouthing words he can't hear. Rinse and repeat.

It feels like drowning, deeper and deeper into the blackness that has Jae trapped within. A prisoner of his own sea of thoughts, crushing his chest and filling his lungs with the sins of his life. He can’t see the light anymore. His body feels cold, no air to breathe, no way out. Only darkness with drops of deep red splotches across his face and heart, seeping through flesh and bones and dragging him further down.

The door suddenly slams open and Jae’s gaze snaps up from the table, his eyes following the police inspector who talks to the officer in an agitated manner. The inspector looks stressed, his hair sticking in odd angles from his head and his eyes are set deep. The female officer soon leaves the place and closes the door behind her while the inspector sighs defeatedly and turns to Jae. Their eyes meet insantly.

“Do you want to know why I hate mobs?”

The world slowly fills with noise again and Jae hears the shuffling outside of the room, like chaos flittering in through the station. Many people should be here at the moment, too many people for the small local station. Their holding cells are probably overflowing, some will try to flee, some will still fight against each other.

When police inspector Eric Nam doesn’t answer the rhetoric question, Jae nods for him to continue as if he cares about it.

“We have about thirty people arrested, about ninety percent of them are hurt in some way. At least fourteen people are dead, eight of them innocent bystanders. The numbers are rising every minute despite us not counting the casualties. This is what happens when two gangs decide that they need to gain the upper hand in their meaningless power play.” Eric’s face splotches red in anger. His fingers tap hard against the table with every new fact thrown at Jae as if it’s something new to him. “And to add insult to injury, we have to release half of the people we arrested because the assigned chief is in bed with fucking Jackson Wang, who, by some miracle, wasn't even arrested in the first place.”

One second Eric sneers at him, the next Jae is being seized at his collar and only a few inches away from the inspector.

“All the important people are gone, and your goonies have to pay for your faults. This is disgusting, your whole bunch is disgusting. You call yourself family, but all you guys do are telling lies and betray each other.”

Eric pushes him back again and Jae flies into his seat, his face still impassive and blank. He rakes through his hair again as he grits his teeth and calms down bit by bit.

Angry people talk too much. Jae got more information during his rant than he has ever before, not that it matters now.

Apparently, Mark Tuan has been assigned to investigate the shooting and with Mark being part of Jaebeom’s circle, they’ve granted Jae’s guys a huge favor. Stressing the important part: Jae is a free man. He is allowed to go and look back to the station again – if Mark does a good job, he never will.

“The attackers were led by Jennie Kim.”

Eric’s head slowly turns to Jae, his brows furrowed as he obviously tries to process what Jae is saying. It’s silent for a few seconds until Eric’s fingers edge towards the audio recorder and push the button to turn it off.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Jae looks away from the inspector to the mirror on the wall. His face is indeed full of blood splatter, especially his right half where Brian stood next to him.

“Jennie Kim came to me a few days ago and told me she’s going to take something from me if I don’t give her what she wants. You see, I didn’t give her what she wanted, so that happened,” Jae speaks detachedly from the happenings.

“What did she want from you?”

“The nightclub,” Jae chuckles darkly. “She wanted the fucking Sun because she’s a shareholder and, in case of Seunghyun’s death, she would've gotten the club.”

Eric eyes widen as he finally catches up with the complex web that is this incident. “But you guys have the documents that states you are the legal owner of the club. So, she just went ahead and tried to take down the YoungK?”

“I think so. It’s hard to ask now with her being dead and so.”

Let him assume things.

“Is that the reason why you killed her?” Jae only stares numbly at Eric. The inspector clears his throat. “I mean, told someone to kill her?”

“Maybe. What does it matter?”

“Well, she is dead, and we need her killer. You can tell me, this is completely off-records.”

“After your passionate speech of why you hate gangs? Thanks, but no thanks,” Jae laughs dryly. “Get my cuffs off and I’m out of here.”

Eric frowns. “We have a deal, remember?”

“Then listen, Mister police inspector,” Jae leans forward and grits his teeth. “If you want this deal to happen, then you’ll have to stop whining about how much you hate mobs and actually do things. I hate them every bit as you do, and our deal is my way to finally get out of this shitty place. I swear to god, if you fuck this somehow up, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through that petty brain of yours.”

Despite of Jae's blunt threat, Eric leans back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a wide smirk on his face. “And finally, you show your true colors, Park Jaehyung. I knew that it would take some time until you break but here it is.”

Well, Eric got him in a way. Jae lost his temper but who can blame him? He is emotionally drained and his stress level reaches its maximum, it’s only natural that he is breaking down. Sort of. The numbness is pressing down on his chest and Jae craves it, fears for what will be revealed as soon as it fades away eventually. He can’t face his feelings right now, not when he is in a precarious situation where he needs to keep a cool head.

“Jennie Kim is one of G-Dragon’s guys,” Jae changes the topic to get some control back into his hands. “G-Dragon is pissed at us because of the club and sent Jennie to fix things.”

“This just makes tonight a simple revenge act. Is there any reason to why now?”

Jae thinks a few seconds if there is any harm in telling him. Probably not. “EXO showed interest in purchasing the club from us.”

“EXO are the nemesis of Bigbang, right?”

Jae shakes his head. “Not exactly. EXO has the Cassiopeia, the one thing that the king couldn’t get his hands on. The Sun was a good rival, but no one could ever reach the Cassiopeia. It’s just an old grudge.”

“And here we go again with escalating power plays.” Eric rolls exasperatedly his eyes.

No one talks for some time, only gazes being locked on each other. No trust, no loyalty, only the breathing of two man from different worlds.

“Look, I did my part,” Jae eventually breaks the silence, hits his open palms onto the table. “Told you everything I know. It’s your turn.”

Eric heaves a defeated sigh, again. “I haven’t found much. The sunken ship? Still waiting for intel from the harbor authority. Your dead delivery boy? Only learnt that he vanished on your territory, near the warehouse, and then appeared on Bangtan’s street again. The shooting though… that’s where it gets interesting.”

Jae leans forward, the metal cuffs sliding over the table noisily to which Eric grimaces while he procures a key out of the pocket and moves to open them.

“The five men were connected to each other even before the shooting. They all had contact to someone called ‘Lee Hyunyeong’ at one point. What makes this even more interesting is that they all have been in Gochon-Eup, near the Gimpo Bridge when they contacted him. Same place, same man, different time, though. Then, a few weeks before the attack, they all get a call by a person they didn't know before. And guess what – if you rearrange the syllables, you’ll always get ‘Lee Hyunyeong’.”

Finally freed, Jae rubs against his wrist to relieve some of the pain. “Any leads to who this Lee Hyunyeong is?”

Eric shakes his head. “No, I’m working on it. I’ve tried to connect the ship's captain to the five man but came up with nothing.”

“Then he probably used a different name.” What a shame. At least he has some lead to follow now. “As much as I enjoy our conversations—"

“Sure, you do.”

“—I’m on my way out. Before I forget--” Jae turns before he leaves the room. “--meet me in a week for a short briefing on Bigbang. There’s a bar in front of your department, Friday nine pm sharp. Drinks on me.”

He doesn’t wait for Eric’s answer and just leaves. The numbness begins to dwindle away.

~~~

Jae heaves a tired sigh once he enters the black car in front of the station. The place is in utter chaos. Officers are running around like chicks without heads and can barely keep up with the things happening in there. Screams and punches are exchanged between prisoners, and policemen are trying to deescalate the situation. At least the woman at the front desk has been helpful enough to give him his belongings back. His gun is still missing.

“I’m surprised that the chief of the station released half of your men,” a deep voice speaks up next to him.

“Seriously? It’s your job knowing things, Mister Suh.”

Johnny chuckles next to him, opening his palms in an amused gesture. “You’re right. It’s an open secret in the underworld that Mister Tuan is loyal to Jaebeom and only to Jaebeom. But just because they are your friends doesn’t mean he has to bail you out.”

“Jackson’s softer than you think. He probably pitied me and asked Mark to release me.”

Jae suddenly feels something wet against his cheek and looks up to find Johnny holding out a wet towel for him.

“There’s blood… everywhere.”

He takes the towel with a grumbled ‘thanks’ and starts to wipe the stains off his face. At least then he doesn’t look like he murdered anyone tonight. Jae is ready for the bed, exhausted to the bones, but there is something else he has to do first.

The sun is already rising at the horizon. How much time has he spent in the station? Time flies by when you can’t process any real thought anymore, and while it has felt like slowly dying inside, he was in there the whole night. His feelings start to trickle in slowly, heavier than the pressure of being underwater. The sky is painted in a beautiful violet and pink, all colors that originate from red. It’s astonishing for Jae how such an awful color can turn into something so beautiful.

“Is G-Dragon in any way involved in the shooting tonight?”

Johnny shakes his head before he carefully says, “I don’t know. While he has shown interest in the Sun and is most probably upset that EXO gets his hands on it, he hasn't contacted Jennie in any way. It’s all on her own account. It doesn’t change the fact that Kwon Jiyong was the one to plant the idea in her head, though.”

“Do you think he knows what Namjoon is planning?”

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

Johnny, however, only shrugs. “Everyone knows that Kim Namjoon is planning something at this point. It’s only a matter of time until someone gets what exactly it is.”

“Then I hope it’s not too soon.” Jae leans his head against the window and watches the street blurring together into one gray picture. “I did what you told me; got Beomgyu back in touch with Namjoon and told him to be a second pair of eyes and ears in the warehouse.” Johnny nods as he listens attentively. “And you were right about Eric; he did discover the connection between the attackers.”

“He is a good police inspector, it would've been more surprising if he hadn’t. Did he find anything else?”

Jae shakes his head. “No, unfortunately not. How about you?"

“Working on it. I will soon start the preparations for the next step of our plan.” Johnny then takes a suitcase to his lap; his lanky fingers pushing the buttons to open and reveal its content for Jae to inspect. “Also, I have the dossiers you wanted. Four envelopes for the inner circle and one for the boss himself.” He pushes the envelopes up, revealing a laptop underneath. “The surveillance data of your apartment, the YoungK and the Drum are saved on its hard drive.” He closes the suitcase again.

“Anything else?” Jae takes the suitcase and puts it on his own lap. His fingers squeezes the edges hard and his gaze clings on the outside world once again.

“Nothing of concerning matters.” Johnny hesitates for a few seconds before he adds in a soft voice, “If I may say so, Jaehyung-ssi, you should take a break. You look awful.”

Jae huffs a sarcastic laugh, swallowing hard. “Well, I’ve been in custody after someone in my immediate vicinity got shot.”

His eyes lock on something just outside of the car. A place he hasn’t been to for a long time. It stands sturdy and old on its ground, small and nearly ruinous. The windows shine in many different colors, the sun blocked by the tower, sunrays blinding the onlooker, nonetheless.

Jae abruptly leans forward and asks the driver to stop right here. The suitcase is safely gripped between his fingers as he salutes to Johnny before leaving the car on a whim – just to follow the magnetic pull of that building. Step by step his feet carry him towards the old church, long abandoned and left behind. Jae greets it like an old friend.

It has been a long time since he last entered a church. This church was his safe place when the world around him started to crumble down. He can see his younger version staggering into the hall up until the front of the altar where he fell on his knees and intertwined his fingers for a prayer.

Now, Jae does the same but only slower. His head turns around to capture all the images of the stained-glass windows. Different colors reflect on every surface of the church, pictures so captivating and breathtakingly beautiful. A white dove eternalized around yellow patches, a mother loving her child surrounded by red, a prayer in blue.

The bench creaks beneath him when he sits down, and the suitcase drops on the floor with a loud echoing bang. Even though the church is old and chilled, the place itself has such a warm and embracing feeling to it that Jae just has to bow his head in reverence.

He grits his teeth as the numbness leaves him altogether and reality crashes in with full force. It hurts deep down inside his heart where he drowns in the sins of his doings; it hurts in the deepest pits of his mind where he sees the world crumbling and burning around him. All that is left are the black ashes of regret as the days of peace and happiness are long gone.

Then, he slides down on his knees and buries his head into his hands, just like in old times.

This time, he went too far. He did the one thing he swore himself to never do and yet here he is, praying and asking for forgiveness, having committed the worst sin of all. His own hands, once speckled with blood, are now dunked in deep red and nothing can wash it off ever again.

The pictures replay in his head again and again; the weapon in his hand, his finger pulling the trigger, a bullet piercing right through Jennie Kim’s heart. Jae did that. With cold eyes and a blank face he shot her to death. And that all in vain. She had pulled her trigger and hit her target, too.

Younghyun went down on his knees, his hand clutching at Jae’s sleeve and Jae— Jae didn't realize what happened until Younghyun looked up to him with wide brown eyes filled with so many words that had been left unsaid. His lips formed words, but Jae couldn’t hear them, if only his heartbeat hadn’t tuned everything out.

The pumps of his heart won’t subside for they only get louder as Jae is craving that feeling. The right morals he should've had in this situation, not to kill a human being. Instead, he only feels the regrets of not having shot any earlier.

~~~

“No, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m not.” That smile. It was that smile that got Jae hooked in the end. “I wrote all of them by myself. And composed it.”

“Woah, dude! That’s so awesome. Your songs are like… I can’t describe it. Like, they reach something in here, right deep inside of me. As if there’s something hidden that tries to break out and—why are you grinning like that?”

Jae had not once in his short life seen something so precious and beautiful like this grin; it’s the sort of smile that pushes the eyes into crescents and made them glint with some kind of fondness – a feeling that was mirrored in Jae’s own face at that moment.

That moment refers to one of his most favorite and at the same time most hated memory he always tended to come back to.

He was sat in that one bar in the city of angels with an actual angel in front of him – there is no other way than that to describe Brian’s ethereal beauty. His blond hair falling over his eyes in waves, his pupils full black circles that looked at him with such intensity, lips in such a soft pink shade and glimmering in the low light of the bar-- and that’s only scraping the surface of how overwhelmingly pretty Brian was, is, always will be.

The beers in front of them were already half empty, little drops ran down along the bottle before Jae caught them with his fingers while trying to peel off the sticky label. He was nervous and his hands rather sweaty because not in his dreams had he thought that this attractive singer would come up to _him_ , Park Jaehyung, and offer to pay for a drink. One drink became two, then three, and Jae was inebriated enough to let his mouth run its course.

“I’ve had many people praising my music,” Brian eventually spoke after seconds of shy smiles being thrown at each other. “But you’re the first one I hear talking about it with such passion… I’m flattered.” The way Brian bit his lips with that unsure smile tugging at his corners, someone should sue him for that. That’s illegal. “Especially from another musician.”

Jae huffed an embarrassed laugh, trying to hide his face behind his bangs and hands. “I’m not a full-fledged musician. I mean, I cover songs and put them on YouTube, nothing more. I never played in front of an audience, unlike you.”

“YouTube? Isn’t that an audience, too? And you just played on that stage hours before.”

“I only did this—I—Well, YouTube… It’s not the same as live. Maybe if you film your own songs and put them online, you’ll know how it feels like.”

Brian only shrugged with tight lips. “Maybe. I’m not keen on getting myself out there.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who don’t have social media.”

“No, I have them, but I usually don’t post pictures of me or something like that.” Brian looked rather flustered now. “I just really cherish my privacy.”

“Oh god, are you one of those conspiracist?” Brian looked confused at him. His face crunched up in a very cute way that Jae wanted to kiss so much. “You think that the government hides the aliens from us? Maybe we should raid Area51 or so.”

This brought a loud guffaw out of Brian before he looked rather fondly at Jae. He pursed his lips before it curled into a smirk, a flirtatious glint in his eyes. “You're funny, Jae. And I’m really hoping that tonight won’t be the last I’ll be seeing of you.”

Jae felt like he hit the jackpot. A nice guy who wrote music, sang them like secret confessions, looked like god himself tried to create the perfect human, was interested in some random guy who could count the number of friends on one hand, was a nerd in every way, had sneezed about ten times the last twenty minutes because someone brought a bouquet into the bar, and had about five subscribers on his YouTube channel where he posted his covers of some pop-songs.

There was only one way to respond to Brian’s cheeky remark and that was to keep his shit together, smile flirtingly back to him and offer a smart comment. Jae, however, ducked his head because he was blushing furiously and couldn’t stop grinning wildly because he was about to score an eleven out of ten. Really, he should be the one feeling flattered.

“I’m hoping that, too,” he eventually spoke into his bottle before he took a few big gulps to stop that goddamn smile on his face.

When he set his bottle back down on the table, Brian was leaning his head against his hand with a dimmed grin on his face but no less flirty. His eyes were intense and checking out every part of Jae, and Jae felt like squirming in his place due to the embarrassment creeping up on his neck.

“You’re Korean, right?”

Jae nodded. “My parents both have family in Korea. I’m actually born in Argentina and moved here when I was five-ish?”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Not a word, muchacho.” Jae cheered in his head loudly when Brian chuckled at his joke. “But I can count to five or so?” When he started to demonstrate it with the help of his fingers, Brian hurriedly tried to stop him with bright laughter and grabbed at his hand to pull it down.

Cue the romantic acoustic music someone played on stage, perfectly timed when their fingers intertwined in that cheesy teenage rom-com way that Jae had secretly pined for since being a thirteen-years-old gay teenager.

“You have soft hands.” Oh shit, did Jae really say that? Maybe he should stop drinking to save what was left of his dignity. “I mean, your skin is so soft even though you’re so muscular, but your face is so clean and wow, I should stop talking before I embarrass myself even further.”

At least Brian laughed amusedly and squeezed his fingers. Jae felt like being in heaven; Brian was perfect in every sense and way. Jae felt like he knew everything about him even though they have been talking to each other for the first time back then. He was swept off his feet the moment he’d heard Brian singing, crushing hard when he saw that one performance with a heartbroken song about being alone, but then, when they finally talked through the whole night, Jae knew instantly that he could fall for this man.

He could fall for him deeply and he was so ready for this.

Especially when the night found its end and Brian stood in front of Jae’s dorms because Brian, the gentleman that he was, escorted him home to know he’s safe, but then stalled and didn’t let go of his hands since they were warm and soft and fitted perfectly into his own.

“I’ve never experienced something like this,” Brian confessed with a shy smile, swinging their hands back and forth. “I mean, us. We clicked instantly and I feel like— that thing that is about to start between us, it’s so… it’s something I really want to try. I want to see you again, Jae, really want to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Jae answered in a whisper because this man stole his breath with only one sentence. “I want that, too.”

Jae was falling for Brian. He was falling fast, and he gladly did so.

But here’s the thing with memories; they give you some sort of retrospection and distance from the happenings that Jae can now see clearer than ever. He had been blinded by Brian’s charms. His rose-colored glasses haven't let him seen the signs that Brian was, is, will always be more than that angel he first thought of him. In the end, his fall landed him into deep waters, far away from the shallow where the light can’t reach him anymore and the only thing left is to drown.

And even if he always accuses Brian for deceiving and lying to him, Jae knows deep inside that it’s his own fault too. Jae let himself fall for Brian and never questioned the little things because, for the first time in his life, someone was genuinely interested in his unfiltered being--the real Park Jaehyung who sneezed ten times in the course of twenty minutes because someone brought flowers into a bar.

That’s the reason why he cherishes that night so much because, even though their relationship was founded on the base of lies, their meeting and those fleeting feelings that followed were a honest expressions of themselves.

~~~

The news are running wild with reports on the shooting in the YoungK. Conspiracies are being made of who has been battling whom, and is the government involved in it? Videos and pictures of the shooting are released in the internet, many already banned and other taken down, but few still make the round. They make it on the head of the newspapers and suddenly, everyone’s talking about it.

Jae feels like that meme of the dog sitting in the middle of fire and telling himself everything’s fine when it isn’t. Being on the news isn’t bad as they get exposure for their legal business; the problem though is the kind of exposure. People will avoid their streets for a while. Not many of them, but a considerable amount that will decrease their income immensely.

Well, considering the state of the casino and its owner, it’ll stay close for a few days anyways. Felix is there to watch over some repair works (more like keeping a close eye on the forensics doing their work as the casino holds many secrets that the police shouldn’t be too aware of) and Chan joined him just a few hours ago – after his short visit to the hospital to make sure that Jisung’s alive and resting well.

The world keeps turning and it’s okay like that. Life doesn’t make a full stop when something tragic happens and people have to deal with their repressing feelings on their own. Some normality does good for everyone and shows how life is not all about the tragic incidents happening all the time. People are bustling through Seoul, teenagers are flirting with their first loves, children are laughing. It’s summer, and August is about to start, school’s long out and the sun swelling. The heat presses down on necks and iced Americanos are the hit.

Amidst all of the lively citizen on that bright Saturday, Jae walks with his head ducked and a suitcase stuck under his arm. People give him a wide berth, thank god, because Jae isn’t in the mood for anything. He’s still wearing the clothes from last night, his blue shirt with the first three buttons open, his jacket somewhere lost and forgotten, the red of his hair fading to a bleached blond. At least there is no blood on his skin anymore and the splotches on his shirt aren’t that noticeable. Maybe. He doesn’t care about it.

The clock strikes eleven when he arrives at the hospital. It’s one of those with doctors who don’t give them a second glance and do everything for the right sum, from taking out bullets to keeping their mouth shut when the wrong people ask questions. The owner of the hospital, who shares the same name with a certain Park Jinyoung, is an old friend of Sungjin and Jaebeom and always offers them a place to heal when they need to rest.

When Jae was allowed to go back in the police station, he finally had the chance to look at his phone. He didn't do that, though, and missed hours’ worth of messages and missed calls from Dowoon, Wonpil and especially Sungjin. The messages range from simple ‘where are you’s and ‘call me back asap’s to updates on the current situation. It also includes Sungjin’s order to meet him here in the hospital, the one place Jae doesn’t want to be in right now.

Jae hates hospitals but even then, who doesn’t? The smell oozes of disinfectant and illness, the hurrying nurses and doctors make you even more nervous when you sit hours in the waiting room, and the white walls with its many abstract paintings don’t help to stamp down that uneasy feeling of being in a hospital.

Another half an hour passes, and Jae eventually stands in front of the room where he is supposed to be in. Instead, he stands frozen on the spot for about twenty minutes now. He can’t go in there, not when he doesn’t want to see what is behind the door.

After his pity session in the church, the numbness has returned back to his bones, different now. Instead of seeing the world from underwater, everything muffled and blurred, he now embraces the numbness as the last stone of a wall that has long begun to crumble. It’s all that is left for him to not have that full-out breakdown, including panic attacks and succumbing to madness, all mixed with a heavy portion of guilt.

Walking through that door means to surrender to that enormous black sea of self-destruction and Jae’s not ready to face the consequences of... he doesn’t exactly know what. Consequences of his doings? Of their criminal life? Karma?

“Jae?”

Jae didn't realize that someone opened the door. He is faced with a very confused and relieved looking Sungjin who then throws the door open wider than before to take Jae into a warm and reassuring hug. _Huh, that’s new._ Not once in his years he has known Sungjin did he receive such a… physical gesture from him boss who hates skinship with his whole being. It’s awkward in a sense that Sungjin’s shorter than him and Jae doesn’t move to return the hug at all.

When he hears a gasp from the room, his eyes involuntarily travel up and find Wonpil sitting next to Dowoon, their fingers linked between their legs like a secret cherished between them. Their touch is disrupted by Wonpil jumping off the couch and running over to greet Jae with his own hug.

With Wonpil, it’s more about relief that Jae has somehow found his way to them after gone missing for hours.

“Jae-hyung, I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Jae only nods because he can’t process any words being thrown at him. All his attention belongs to the one person lying on the bed in the middle of the room. His black hair is swept off his forehead, fanning out onto the pillow like a halo. His usual brown skin bears an ashen gray tone, so sick without the usual tan color. His face looks calm, as if he is in deep slumber, as beautiful and ethereal as on the first day Jae had met him, even under that sickly white hospital light. His lashes throw shadows on his high cheekbones that were made to wear a light blush; just like his lips were made to have a slight curl because he smiles so much, too much, and Jae wants to take back every moment he wished the smile to be gone.

Dowoon is on his way to him, to meet him with his own hug, and Jae just doesn’t pay him any attention. He stumbles his way to the bed and falls on his knees next to it, his hand cautiously reaching out to take the one lying there, not moving. The skin feels so cold like the gray tone it bears, and it breaks something in him.

That last stone falls down into the sea, sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of darkness. A small stone that causes ripples, small waves getting bigger and bigger, yet never reaching the shore.

“Younghyun.”

His voice is just a whisper and yet so loud in that silent room. His hands envelop Younghyun’s cold one, so desperate to bring some warmth to the cold limb to make it something alive again.

“That’s the first time you’re colder than me,” he chuckles lightly, wetly. “You were always whining about my cold feet but still warmed them up because you—you…” He chokes on the word, the one word that comes to his mind right now. It feels wrong to acknowledge it in that moment, but Jae is weak, a weak, weak man who's having some sort of breakdown that no one dares to calm down.

“I want to return the favor just once, as long as I have the chance to.” His voice breaks at the end when he brings the hand to his lips, feeling the coldness of his fingers there. “It’s so cold without you, Younghyunnie. It’s always so cold without you.”

He grimaces when he sees the wetness on Younghyun’s hand, the drops of his tears rolling down onto the ashen skin until they meet his own fair fingers. Like bubbles lifting up through the water, higher and higher until they find the surface and some sort of light breaks through, a small glimpse that you get addicted to, that Jae is addicted to.

“Can you forgive me?” His voice wavers as his vision blurs. His fingers skim over his face, his wonderful cheekbones, and then sweep a stray strand off his forehead. “I did this to you. I couldn’t protect you and it’s my fault you’re here. It’s all my fault, please forgive me.”

The tears fall down with no end and a desperate sob tears itself from his throat, his breathing getting more erratic with time.

“Forgive me, Younghyunnie, forgive me, please. I need you, I can’t without you, I lo—” He chokes on his own tears, a loud cry escape from his lips.

This is drowning. This is hell. It feels like lying on the streets of L.A. again, it feels like crying in Seoul during rain again, always with Younghyun’s form leaving his behind, bleeding and drowning; just this time, it’s all Jae’s fault. There is no one else to blame. He wants to return back to the times where he was blind to the things that are happening. It was easier, so much easier to love and live and be Jae.

Not like this monster.

“Hyung, please, stop crying.”

Jae fights against the hands grabbing his arms, he fights against anyone who tries to separate him from the man in front of him. Wonpil presses his chest against his back, his arms locking around Jae’s chest and his voice whispers soothing words into his ears, and all Jae can do is fight against it with all his might. He doesn’t want this, he wants the pain, the guilt, he wants to drown in it and never see the shallow again.

Sungjin and Dowoon’s hands latch onto Jae’s form and drag him out of the room while Jae cries and yells. The nurses are alert and hurry around them, no one daring to touch him, the fear in their eyes mirrored.

It’s only when he feels the stab of a needle in his neck and the world facing into darkness that he stops screaming and surrenders himself to the world looking down upon him again.

~~~

Unconsciousness feels a lot like floating. The water surrounds him, drags him down, and everything is silent. There is nothing except for Jae, his heart still, his breathing halted. In one moment, he feels like drowning, the next he is gasping, his lungs filling with fresh much needed air, painful and cold. Yet, Jae doesn’t have the time to react when suddenly someone lungs at him. Fingers grab around his neck and tilt his chin down and wet lips crash hurriedly against his own.

Jae feels it in a rush, everything goes from slowed down to fast paced. There he was drowning a few seconds ago and now here he is with his hands buried under muscular thighs, chest to chest with another man, their lips sucking the air out of each other.

His body works on autopilot and his mind hasn’t caught up by now, the kisses and touches feel too good. Jae presses the man further into the wall and their crotches meet. A loud groan rips out of his partner and he thumps his head against the wall; his deep voice pleading, “Fuck me now!”

It is then when he finally catches up with the world around him. The room is dark, but he instantly knows where he is: the bedroom of apartment #10b, located down the street with the KFC on the right side. Jae knows the layout by heart, the bed at the window, the desk with the hordes of notebooks and one laptop stacked upon it, one shelf filled with even more books, and most importantly, the guitar and bass next to the door.

He was often in here. The apartment has a nice view over the city and the beach is nearby, perfect for nightly walks on the sand after a visit to said KFC. Beaches are nice for dates, for stolen kisses and wet adventures in the water with no clothes at all. The university is just around the corner as are the dorms for the students, and it only takes a maximum of twenty minutes to walk from one place to another.

“C’mon, Jae, bed. Now!” The man between his arms whines with the fingers clutching impatient at his neck, the press uncomfortable and still so arousing.

Jae stumbles through the darkness, not an easy feat with a grown-ass man hanging off his body, and throws them on the mattress, both not wasting any second to get rid of their clothes and touching the bare skin.

The air fills with groans and whines and moans, louder with each second ticking by, and other noises join, the sound of slurping and wet fingers pressing into the body of the other. When Jae’s finger finds the bundle of nerves in the other, the pleasure that tears itself out of the other's mouth is the sweetest sound he has ever heard. Jae dives up to taste the moan, their lips touching but not actually kissing, too far gone for that.

But then Jae halts in his movements when he sees the eyes. That intense gaze looking up at him, filled with so much emotion that Jae doesn’t know where to start to untangle them. The whole scene feels out of place. He was in the hospital minutes ago and cried over the body of Younghyun and now he is back in Brian’s old apartment in L.A., having sex with said owner of the apartment.

Younghyun must sense the confusion and puts softly his fingers against his cheeks. The intensity in his eyes grows as does the small smile on his lips, the air changing from sexual tension to something more vulnerable.

“Stop thinking,” Younghyun whispers softly against his lips, then presses small pecks onto them. “Just give in and let things happen.”

“Give in to what?”

Younghyun suddenly presses up to roll them around and then he’s straddling Jae, lining up Jae’s cock with his entrance. Their eyes lock just before Younghyun goes down, slow and languidly, moans spilling out of their mouths.

“Your feelings.” Brian groans when he starts moving in a slow and nerve-wrecking pace.

Jae’s hands find the slim waist and grab hard. Younghyun’s skin will bruise after this, Jae knows from experience. Their breathing quickens as do their heartbeats while sweat rolls down on their skins into the blanket underneath.

“What if—What if I’m scared?”

His hands push at Younghyun’s back and he leans down to him. Their lips meet and Jae is reminded once again how sweet it always tasted. Just, something’s odd about it though.

“That’s okay,” Younghyun pants as he speeds up the pace. “I’m always here to—to catch your fall. Always.”

And how Jae does fall. He feels his orgasm build up and his back arches, his fingers press deeper into the skin, his breathing halts. A bite against his neck, but wait, it feels more like a sting. It burns. His whole body burns. He feels on fire and the orgasm never comes.

Jae gasps again, deep and hard, and it feels more painful than before. The bed under him isn’t as soft anymore and the air smells sterile again. He can’t process his own existence, nothing feels real. His body burns everywhere but it’s so cold at the same kind, his skin is on fire while his insides are drowning in cold water. His heart doesn’t slow down, it paces as if he is running a marathon which turns his stomach upside down. He wants to claw off his skin to stop the itching at his neck and to get to the cold inside him. His fingers scratch against his skin until someone else pulls them away. Fingers that feel warm against his skin. Too much, this is too much.

“Jae, please, calm down. It’s me. You’re save. You’re with me.”

The words don’t calm him down even though they are spoken so softly and so calm, but Jae still can hear the worry and stress. The voice won’t stop talking and it gets the desired effect; Jae’s panic slows down enough to recognize the person in whose arms he is in.

“Wonpil?”

His voice sounds like shit, scratching and hoarse as if he has been screaming for hours. Exactly how he feels like. The fire ceases when Jae takes in the sterile hospital room and numbness greets him like an old friend for a short moment. It's finally quiet for a moment.

His head rests against Wonpil’s shoulder and Jae looks up into the teary gaze of the other. He has seen this look only once on Wonpil’s face, a memory he has buried into the deepest pits of his mind. The night he had been bleeding on the streets of Seoul, crying under the rain, and Wonpil picking him up with that broken expression.

“I’m here, Jae.”

Wonpil’s finger caresses his cheek while he tries a small smile that looks so broken on his face. It isn’t a look that suits Wonpil’s face. Jae hates it so much, it hurts something somewhere, he would know if he wouldn’t feel so numb from the pain inside.

He does the one thing he knows he can do for Wonpil. Jae leans up and angles his face. Their lips meet in a kiss, first hesitant, then urgent. Blood rushes to his ears as Jae chases the feeling of release, the orgasm he has been denied of. His skin heats up and that feeling is there again, the fire blazing and the ocean inside him pressing against his chest. Urgent turns into desperate fast and it all should finally—

“Hyung,” Wonpil tries to pry Jae off of him. “Hyung, please.” When Jae pressures further into him, Wonpil’s soft caressing fingers hold his face hard and push him away. “Stop. Just— stop.”

His breathing won’t slow down and the blood rushing to his ears muffle everything again. The fingers on his face wipe the wet streaks on his face and—oh. He’s crying. He is having a full breakdown again because Younghyun… because of Younghyun’s still form lying peacefully on a bed.

“Make it stop, Wonpil.” Jae puts his head against Wonpil’s chest, sobbing and shaking against his frame. “Make it stop, please.”

They end up lying on the bed fully, Wonpil’s arms secure around his body as Jae’s head is buried into the crook of his neck. His sobs subside eventually, but Wonpil’s small caresses never stop. Jae is grateful for that; they keep him grounded and soothe the pain a little bit. Just a small little bit.

And yet he feels like there is something he needs to get out. Something urgent that finally needs to be voiced for the first time.

“I hate this.”

Wonpil immediately hums in agreement. “Well, who wouldn’t?”

Jae’s hand grab Wonpil’s shirt, the cloth crumbling beneath his fingers. “No, I mean—I hate this life.” The soothing motion in his hair stops. It urges him now more to continue than before. “Being a mobster, I hate everything about it. I hate lying to people and deceiving them, I hate hurting them, I hate killing them! I don’t want it, I never wanted it in the first place. I can’t do it anymore, Wonpil. I’m so tired, I can’t do it anymore. I’m trying so hard to get out of here but look what it did. Look at what I did. It’s my fault he is like that. It’s all my fault.”

“Hey, hey, no,” Wonpil shushes him while his arms tighten around him. “It’s not your fault. People don’t do horrible things because of you. It’s all on them what actions they take. They’re to fault.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Jae talks himself into hysterics again. “She threatened me. She wanted to kill Younghyun from the beginning. She told me so, and what did I do? Nothing. I did nothing and now he’s—”

“You did something. You tried to protect him. It was a matter of seconds, hyung, and you did something you swore to never do. This doesn’t make you a monster, just someone who wants to protect those he loves.”

“Wonpil, he’s fucking—”

“He wouldn’t want you to be like this, hyung. Younghyun-hyung only wanted the best for you and this, this is your worst.” Wonpil presses a kiss onto Jae’s head. It's fond, it's careful. It's warm. “I know you never wanted to be in, and I promise you, I’ll help you to get out. We are the monsters here and you aren’t one of us. You are so much better than us, hyung.”

“You know that I love you,” Jae confesses with a teary voice.

“I know. And I love you, too.” Jae can hear the small smile in his words. “But next time, say it to Younghyun-hyung. He deserves your love, not me.”

~~~

A throbbing in his head. Light flickers in the darkness. Clothes rustle.

Jae takes a deep breath. The smell of disinfectant hits his nose, sharp and stingy. His eyes feel heavy when he slowly opens them. The room is dark except for small light filtering in through the window.

Right, he is in a hospital, alone. The blanket’s warmth surrounds him and lulls him into sleep again. His vision is blurred from the lack of glasses and contacts, and his eyes hurt from the whole crying.

He feels delirious, as if he is in a state between awake and asleep. Reality feels like a dream, or does the dream feel like reality?

Clothes rustle again. Someone’s here. A shadow moves in front of him to sit down in a chair, a soft smile brightened by the light.

“Hey, boss.”

The voice is soft and calm, soothing for his sensitive ears. Jae rubs his eyes in hopes to get rid of the exhaustion and dream-like state of the room. It only serves to hurt his eyes even more. Anyways, Jae knows this voice and whole presence can only belong to one person.

“Chan?”

The other huffs a short laughter. Jae can imagine the small smile that curls on Chan’s lips.

“How are you feeling, boss?”

Jae moves his head out of his pillow, a harder task than he has expected.

“Like shit.” Jae’s voice is raspy and laced with sleepiness His eyes close again when Chan leans forward, straightening the blanket around Jae’s body like a caring mother hen. If Jae were any more aware of his surroundings, this would be embarrassing since he is over five years older than Chan. This is undermining his authority as his boss—even though Chan never calls him anything else than boss or hyung.

“I see you too often looking like shit. You should stop with that, it’s not a look that suits you.” Jae actually giggles at the small jab. That’s something that Younghyun would have said. “Younghyun-hyung and I have been friends since middle school, so it’s not odd for us to say the same things.”

That is actually something Jae hasn’t known before. And on a site note, his mind helpfully provides, he is saying things out loud he hasn’t intended to.

“You know Younghyun?”

Chan laughs again. A warm hand straightens out a crease in the blanket. “We’re in the same mob, you know? Always have been.”

“How long?”

Chan hums in thought and takes a bit of time before he answers. “When I came over from Australia. My Korean wasn’t that great and Younghyun was the only one to take his time and talk to the foreigner. He made it his mission to teach me Korean while I taught him proper English. Can you imagine that he learnt English by watching—”

“Shrek,” Jae laughs quietly. “I know. I had to watch it every few months with him. It’s a good movie but you can only watch it so often.”

“Yeah…” Chan’s voice trails off into the silence of the room.

Jae feels the sleepiness dragging him into darkness again. It’s warm and comfortable and his mind won’t start to work properly anyway.

Chan clears his throat before he starts talking again. “I’m just here to check up on you. And give you a small briefing on our current situation.”

Current situation, yeah, Jae can do that. Maybe. The pillow’s so soft.

Chan, unaware of Jae’s struggle, continues. “Jackson’s assistant—Seungmin I think?— called me a few hours ago. Jackson’s accepting our deal but wants to add a few conditions to it. Give him a call as soon as you feel up to it. Seungmin said that they’ll wait for your call. They were nice enough to send us a small batch of drugs to show their condolences.” The talk stops for a few seconds and Jae thinks maybe Chan has finished, but then he starts again, his voice somehow suddenly so far away. “Jisung wasn't shot badly at least. They only hit his shoulder and if he’s stopping to whine about it, it’s nothing to be concerned about. Oh, and officer Nam showed up at the casino and threw us some nasty glances. He’s pissed off as soon as we told him you weren’t there.”

And if Chan has been talking about anything else, Jae wouldn’t know because the darkness has won over and gifted him with a fitful round of sleep.

~~~

It’s cold where he is. It’s cold and dark and has this surreal feeling to it. Jae feels like floating; his arms flow high into the sky, reaching for the light flittering in through the cracks. Music reaches his ears, damp and quiet. Someone sings.

_“It’s never easy to stand in front of you, like it's a thriller—”_

He opens his eyes, the darkness making place for something bright and colorful. The picture is blurred, the music still muffled, but Jae doesn’t need clarity to know what is in front of him. His eyes seek out the lips forming the words, a soft pink touching slightly the microphone. He is beautiful like this on stage, the guitar lying heavy between his hands.

When he moves, it feels like wading through water. It’s heavy and strenuous, just like floating. The singer looks directly at him, singing and playing, his wet hair falls into his eyes. Those intense eyes.

“ _I didn't expect for this, what I wanted for was a bit of romance_ —”

Suddenly, someone bumps into Jae. He doesn’t fall but the world tilts and Jae slides with it. Gravity is wrong, it feels so wrong, Jae feels like falling along the tilt and flowing through water at the same time. His stomach turns with it, nauseous makes its presence felt.

 _“—But reality hardens often, it's a bit of drama._ ”

Jae turns his head to see the person from before. A beautiful woman stares at him, her eyes dark and lips red. His heart stops when the water around her colors red, when splotches of blood soak through her white dress. Her face is blank, her skin ashens, and suddenly her finger points to something behind Jae.

He follows her fingers to see Younghyun still singing on stage, yet his hands have stopped playing the guitar. Between his fingers, he holds a gun.

“ _Yeah just shoot me—”_

Jae wants to scream, to plead, but nothing comes out of his mouth, not when Younghyun aims directly at Jae, not when Younghyun’s own chest is bleeding.

_BANG BANG_

Jae suddenly jolts awake, his hands shooting up to his chest to check for bullet wounds. When he can’t feel any, his breathing starts to normalize. His skin is wet, and his clothes are drenched in sweat. He is still in the hospital, lying in a bed, and night has already begun.

The room is blanketed in darkness. The only light source is the small crack of the door that does nothing to lighten up the room.

Jae tugs again at his shirt – Wonpil must have changed his clothes when he was asleep — to get some cold air for his hot body. His other hand pats around for his phone on the mattress, coming up with nothing. He slowly sits up, his muscles aching from lying in a bed for so long, and does some stretches to get rid of some pain. A small blinking light draws his attention.

He reaches for his phone on the small table next to the bed, thankfully plugged in so it isn’t dead, and unlocks it. It’s bright and hurts his eyes, as if Jesus himself descends from heaven. The phone says it is around eleven in the night and he has too many unread messages, mails and a few missed calls. It’s mostly partners and customers catching up on business after the small attack in the casino, and those can wait for Jae to answer their fake worries. Otherwise, he quickly answers Chan’s catch-up message, lets Felix’s update on read, and decides to take care of Johnny and the police inspector’s missed calls tomorrow morning.

Now that he has slept through a whole day after being awake for over twenty-four hours and two to three breakdowns followed by two exhausting dreams, Jae’s mind is clearer than before. The pain is still there, an aching reminder in his heart, but it’s not as bad and fresh as when he has seen Younghyun’s body lying on the hospital bed.

It’s time to face the important things for now.

Jae leaves the bed and his knees nearly buckle. His stomach grumbles at exact this moment but hunger never comes, instead the nauseous feeling from his dream doubles in its strength. And he really needs to take a piss.

First things first; where is the light switch?

~~~

The hallway light floods in when Jae opens the door to the cursed room, and one hunched-over figure sits abruptly up with wide eyes on his face. Jae tries hard to ignore the gun aimed at him and the surging panic in his belly. One deep breath after another, until Sungjin puts the gun away and looks relieved instead of murderous.

“How do you feel, hyung?”

Jae wanders into the room with his eyes locked on Younghyun’s sleeping form, his fingers reaching for the ones splayed out on the mattress. A tube sticks out of the back of the hand, one finger is clipped onto a device to monitor his slow but thankfully still beating heart. His hand is slightly warm against Jae’s cold skin.

“I’m okay,” Jae croaks with his voice not being used for hours. “Not good. But okay.”

Jae jumps at the sudden noise. When he turns, he sees Sungjin scraping a chair behind him and then motioning for Jae to take place on said chair. It's standing against the window, right next to the bed, with the best view over the sleeping patient and the door.

The seat is nearly nowhere comfortable. The plastic digs into his back and legs and for Jae being quite tall, the height leaves much to desire. Yet, it’s perfect to reach out for Younghyun’s hand and envelope it with his own. Their hands still fit together like they have been made for it, and Jae’s heart swells at the many memories of them holding hands with the wish to never let go.

“We have a lot to talk about, hyung,” Sungjin breaks the calm silence. He exhales heavily, his voice firm yet soft. “But it can wait. “

Jae nods in agreement. Even though his mind is clear and he is technically able to work, he doesn’t want to. This right here needs his full attention now.

“Younghyun has been lucky. The bullet nearly grazed his heart, instead it only got tangled between the veins or whatever it’s called. His body went into shock right after it. You pressing down on his wound saved his life, hyung. You saved his life.”

His hand grips Younghyun’s harder.

Jae hasn’t saved his life. He wants to shake his head and tell Sungjin so, but his body won’t move. He is frozen in his seat, his eyes solely resting on the face of his ex-lover. His eyes are closed, his hair swept out of his face. He looks so peaceful if it weren't for the gray tint of his skin. The fluorescent light makes him look sicker than he is, so do the many tubes coming out of his body.

“The doctor said that he won’t wake up anytime soon. He'd lost a lot of blood and the operation took its toll. Give him a few days to fully rest.”

“Were there any complications?”

Jae doesn’t like how Sungjin hesitates to tell him something. He sees the other shuffling in his periphery and his hands kneading each other. He is nervous and it says enough for Jae to know. Sungjin must know it too, since he then confesses that yes, there have been complications.

“He stopped breathing during the operation. They don’t know whether it was an allergic reaction to the anesthesia or if it was due to something entirely else. It’s possible that it caused brain damage, but the doctors haven’t told me anything else. We’re still waiting for now.”

He stopped breathing during the operation. Is there something worse than anxiousness because that’s exactly what Jae is feeling right now. He could have lost Younghyun within minutes, seconds even. And that all because he has been reckless. It’s his fault that Younghyun’s like this.

“It’s all my fault.” Sungjin shakes his head even without hearing the end of Jae’s sentence. “No, it _is_ my fault. I knew that this woman would sooner or later try to kill him.”

“No, Jae, that’s not true and you know it. This could have happened to any of us, be it Wonpil or Dowoon or even you. It’s no one’s fault except for this woman shooting at him. And even then, this is a job hazard. We all could get shot sooner or later, that’s what being a mobster is about. I’m honestly surprised that this hasn’t happened before. We were lucky, Jae, and we have to learn and adapt from our current situation. But please, don’t fault yourself for it.”

Jae knows that Sungjin’s words come from a place deep within his heart. It’s just—this is exactly the same thing that he hears again and again from his boss, that their occupation bears the risk of killing and getting killed. It just bears so much truth that Jae doesn’t want to be conscious of.

“Her name was Jennie Kim. She’s one of G-Dragon’s guys. She came to me after you left the restaurant and threatened me to kill Younghyun if I don’t give her the Sun back.”

He hears Sungjin’s breath hitch at the mention of G-Dragon’s name. Sungjin’s eyes are most probably doubled in their width and all blood drains out of his face. That’s the moment where the reality of this shooting crashes into the room because now Sungjin realizes too what it means:

They can’t go about that the usual way.

Nothing can go the usual way if Sungjin is going to behave like usual. Jae thinks he knows him good enough to predict the thought process that runs through his boss’s head right now.

“Shit,” Sungjin eventually groans and scrubs his face with his hands. “I have to tell Wonpil to back off then. I’m not risking this if it means that G-Dragon sent her.”

“Doesn’t that make us cowards? Isn’t this the time to show that we’re not backing off?”

The world is still tilted on its axis. The usual Jae wouldn’t say something like this if it means starting a war with none other than Seoul’s former king. The Jae now doesn’t care about it though. He feels numb to the fears inside of him. All that matters is the man in front of him. He just wants to see those intense eyes again and that smile. That goddamn smile.

Sungjin grunts in surprise, looking obviously taken aback. “Yes, well, but I don’t think it will affect our reputation if we don’t start a war against the Dragon.”

Jae, for the first time, looks straight into Sungjin’s eyes with a threatening stare. “He tried to kill Younghyun. No offence, but if you don’t declare war, I will. I will take everything from this man.”

A deafening silence settles between them. Sungjin stares dumbfounded at Jae, obviously lost at words. Jae only cocks his head before he gives his attention to Younghyun again. His finger start to caress the skin, cautious of the tube sticking out of the hand.

“This is the first time since I’ve known you, hyung—” Sungjin eventually breaks the silence as he stands up from the chair. “—that I’m worried about you doing something horribly wrong. Take a few days off and come back to me when you can see things clear again, alright?”

Sungjin's right, as always, but wrong at the same time.

He is right that maybe Jae is out of his mind right now. Proposing to declare war against the Dragon when he is about to come back to Seoul? Worst idea a mobster can have.

But Sungjin got something completely wrong. Jae can see things clearer than before. He knows what he is doing and what his next steps should be. He knows what he has to do, even if it means that he has to declare war.

The door falls shut behind Sungjin with a loud thud.

Jae pulls Younghyun’s hand cautiously towards him and presses his lips against the warm skin, right next to the tube sticking out of it.

Sungjin’s words still ring in his mind, loud and clear, but his heart doesn’t beat faster and his lungs don’t fill with less air than before. Jae is calm and clear because for the first time this day, he finally sees the silver lining.

Jae leans forward until his lips brush against Younghyun’s forehead. He presses a light kiss against it, tasting something that is undoubtedly Younghyun.

“I’ll get us out of here, Younghyunnie. Promise.”

It’s the darkest during dawn, but at the end of night, the sun will always rise and color the sky in beautiful shades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs referenced are "Sweet Chaos" and "Shoot me".
> 
> This week we got a small glimpse into Younghyun and Jae's relationship; next week is "Track 8: Seeing you change little by little I am afraid I’ll lose you". I'm so looking forward to next week's chapter as someone finally joins the story who will turn around everything in the end.


	8. Track 8: Seeing you change little by little I am afraid I’ll lose you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Day6 - Not Mine
> 
> Do you know the Intro song of Itaewon Class? "You make me back" by Woosung? Because that song always comes to my mind if I think about Woosung in that fic. Because finally, that guy is making an entrance!
> 
> Enjoy reading!

_“Who the hell am I (yeah)- I just wanna go (yeah) - I just wanna fly (yeah) - I just wanna give you all the voices till I die (yeah) - I just wanna give you all the shoulders when you cry (yeah)”_

The music blasts through Jae’s phone while Jae scowls down to the screen. The lyrics are displayed in the video, translated into English so he doesn’t have to think too much about the Korean. It doesn’t change a bit how much he hates it.

“Can you believe that Kim Namjoon has time for producing music while he reigns over Seoul with his oh-so gracious hand?”

Somewhere outside, a bird chirps into the peaceful silence. The sun stands high on the sky, shining down on the big white building, warming the people working in their thin clothes. August has already begun, and summer finds its peak in terms of temperature.

Jae fans himself with one hand while the other occupies his phone. His finger swipes through the discography of someone called RM, who composes one hit after another. For a long time now, Jae had wanted to check out the other life of Kim Namjoon, to get to know the human behind the mask of the unwavering king; only for him to find an unreachable producer with no face but a wise voice.

Admittedly, Jae envies him a bit. He has tons of written music on his desk at home, a lot of them already finished for unplugged versions. If he’d had access to a record studio, he would have already recorded a few songs, mixed down and published. It isn’t the lack of money that hinders him from pursuing his hobby as a possible income, it’s more about the fact that Jae doesn’t have the time to do so.

“Some of them are even featured on the billboard charts.”

What makes it even worse is the fact that Namjoon has earned his place on the charts. His songs are good, fit in with the recent trends of the pop industry and talk about everglow topics, such as getting money, love and fun. That’s what Jae thinks. What he knows is an entirely different thing.

“Your songs are so much better. You would definitely be on top of the charts.”

Jae’s hand reaches out to sweep off the black hair from Younghyun’s fair forehead. Fortunately, the skin isn’t as gray as on that first day anymore. His cheeks have a much rosier color to them. His fingers skim down to his chin, touching every part of his face he can reach, especially the lips that are chapped and dry from the hot air in the room.

“When will you wake up, Younghyunnie?” Jae whispers into the silence of the room, disrupted by the steady beep of the heart monitor.

His phone joins the beep to announce an incoming message. A simple notification of a new song on the channel Jae is on right now. He checks the mark to listen to it later since the title sounds promising enough to give Kim Namjoon another chance. Maybe this time the song isn’t fairing as good as before.

The clock strikes twelve, and the sun stands the highest in the sky, burning down on the skin of Jae’s neck. It’s time to check out the cafeteria again and maybe get another cup of coffee before he returns back to watch over Younghyun just like on the days before. He probably should shoot Wonpil a message to bring him another change of clothes.

The cafeteria is buzzing with people on their break. A lot of doctors and nurses sit at the tables and talk about anything and nothing, making the cafeteria the liveliest place of the hospital right after the entertainment hour of the children station – which Jae is not going to watch, no, never ever (he does, every day, a blessed change from his dull daily routine).

Children’s entertainment starts at the same time every day. When the clock strikes one in the afternoon, a clown, amateur musician or magician walks in through the door and makes ill children smile again. It’s heartwarming, something that Jae craves for so much.

With a cup of coffee, he wanders through the halls, up with the elevator, down the hallway. Soon the walls get brighter, more colorful. Squeaks of children can be heard from afar and one is even running down the hallway, followed by an exasperated nurse to get that child back to the room where the show will start soon.

A disclaimer at this part, though. Jae is not a creep who sneaks into a children’s show as a male adult to look at children’s smile. He does so to visit his friends. Like that boy in the far corner, for example. Jae can’t ever recall his name, but a boy with long hair and one tooth missing always greets him with a cheery wave and knows Jae’s name. That must be enough to justify his appearance here, right? And he only ended up here once because he had been lost in the hospital that one time, okay?

Today, though, something special seems to happen. There are a lot more nurses in here and many children have their mothers with them. The room is quite packed with women, all excited and jumping in their place. Jae looks bewildered through the crowd and shrugs when they don’t seem to notice him. Instead, he makes his way towards the back to the room to give toothless boy a high five and show him that new Fortnite Let’s Play he saw on YouTube.

Only when the female crowd begins to scream and squeak as if some famous idol enters the room, Jae looks up at the same time as the boy and—oh. There is a famous idol walking into the room, making woman and girls swoon with his bright eye-smile.

When idol boy turns around to greet all his fans, Jae hurriedly ducks down to escape the sweeping gaze. This can’t be happening, in no fucking way is this happening.

“What are you doing down there, ahjussi?” Toothless boy looks down from his bed to Jae with a face full of wonder.

Jae, slowly, looks up again to see that idol boy has settled into a chair and fiddles with a guitar – and wait a minute.

His heart gets the message before his brain does and suddenly, the memories rush in in the same speed as his heart flutters in his chest.

The guitar still has that beautiful red wooden color on the back and the strap is still blue, now though it looks more worn and dirtier. The strings are shining as if new, as does the body. Someone had scrubbed off the dirt but missed the place where the owner’s name is written in black bold letters.

Stupid guy, really. There’s nothing cool about writing your own name in black bold letters on your beautiful guitar. At least write the name of the instrument instead.

Idol boy starts to strum a few chords and Jae’s breath gets taken away by the familiarity of the voice and melody. The song is happy and upbeat, the children start to whip along as the adults clap to the beat.

Jae looks around to find the best possible escape route, only to come up with nothing since bodyguards are watching the entrance with hawk eyes. Jae isn’t too keen on being noticed by anyone, even more so by idol boy, but he has no other chance than to enjoy the show and hope for the best once it ends.

So, he sits there for a whole hour, hidden behind at least three rows of young women, cared for by his only friend in here. This includes soft giggles from time to time, a warm hug when Jae nearly went into panic mode, lactose-free cookies after his stomach gurgled and a pack of orange juice to swallow crumbs from said cookies. Best buddy you can wish for.

Soon, the show ends and idol boy bows in front of his fans. Jae sees his chance to flee right when one woman tries to hug idol boy and his bodyguard sweeps carefully between them, which causes an uproar and some chaos.

He is nearly out of the room when he, against better knowledge, turns around for a last time and suddenly finds the eyes of idol boy resting on him. It’s just a few short seconds, really, slow-motion like in every other k-drama, before Jae breaks the eye contact and hurries down the hallway to get to safety.

Fuck. Shit.

This shouldn’t have happened. Jae puts his hand against his chest to calm down his racing heart as the doors of the elevator close behind him, slowly and steadily.

And whack, a sudden hand appears between the slit of the doors to make them open again, and idol boy slips in before he hammers on the button to escape his frantic fans. It’s silent in the elevator, neither going up nor down since none of them pressed the button to their destination.

Jae doesn’t dare to move and wishes to become one with the wall. Why isn’t he a ninja instead of a mobster?

“Tell me—” Idol boy suddenly speaks up in English without looking at him. “Tell me I’m not crazy.” He then turns around in one swift motion, eyes big and round and glazed over with unshed tears. “But you are… are you?”

Jae has two options. He can say him that yes, he is crazy, and he is mistaking Jae for someone else; or he tells him the truth. Jae should go for number one.

“Hi, Sammy.”

Idiot.

~~~

The elevator opened its door with a pling. It was a hectic day for Jae who had his arms full of groceries and the phone glued to his ear because his mother wouldn’t stop chewing it off. Somehow, he reached the door without a problem but stills before he entered because he could hear voices in the room. It’s not unusual to hear voices in a shared dorm room; the unusual thing was that he knew exactly to whom those voices belonged.

“Mom, I’m calling you back,” Jae pressed her away before she could say anything else and let the phone fall from his ear into the bag.

The door slammed loudly behind him while Jae rushed into the room, just to see Sammy and Brian laughing out loud on their couch with Jae’s old YouTube covers playing in the background.

“What the hell is going on here?”

There was nothing off in the dorm room, really. Sammy lived here and Brian had been over enough to know how to get in without Jae’s help. But seeing both of them here at the same time threw Jae off his game. Did he miss something? Like a message or call?

“Dude, you never told me your boyfriend is hilarious!” Sammy eventually spoke with laughter still spilling out between his lips.

Brian on the other hand was already on his way to greet Jae with a small kiss on his cheek and the groceries suddenly in his arms.

“Since when are you here?” Jae turned to Brian, completely ignoring Sammy’s grin. He wanted to follow Brian out of the room and into the kitchen, when Brian looked over the shoulder with that small smile that made his eyes glimmer in a certain way.

“Not long. I wanted to surprise you and luckily, Sammy was here to open the door. Go, relax on the couch while I handle things in the kitchen. You’ve had a hard day.”

Of course, Jae did. It’s exam season after all.

Here’s the problem: Sammy was still on the couch and Sammy liked to be a little shit when it came to Jae’s (lack of) love life. Well, now he had a love, a very hot one if he dared to say so, and Jae wasn’t too keen on talking with Sammy about it. Or anyone for that matter.

“I still can’t believe that you got sexy guitarist to be your boyfriend.”

Jae couldn’t believe it either, that’s why he did a reality check with his phone’s screensaver every day. It’s a very flattering picture of Brian trying to be cute but ended up with a disgusting expression of sorts. Jae absolutely loved this picture.

“You’re only jealous that you didn’t score a date with him.”

“Hell, yeah I am, have you seen those thighs?”

Jae wiggled his eyebrows. “And how I did.”

Sammy shoved him with a loud chuckle. “You’re disgusting, man. But pray tell, how is he? Bed wise, you know?”

Jae threw himself back on the couch, a pillow served as his cuddle partner for now –and as a protection against further attacks from his violent roommate.

“Sammy, he’s perfect,” he said wistfully instead. “He’s a musician, he’s beautiful, smart and have you heard that falsetto?”

Sammy’s bright beam slowly formed into a warm and genuine happy smile. “You’ve got it really bad, huh?”

“Yeah. I feel like I hit the jackpot. Won a Grammy. Made a stadium tour and all that shit. Brian is like—He’s like—I don’t know. He’s too much to put into words.”

Sammy literally squeaked when Jae beamed and squished the pillow between his arms, ecstatic over the situation. “I told ya, see? That you would find your man one day and wow, here he is, an eleven out of ten.”

“Sammy?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I—” Jae stopped himself before he said too much. Sammy understood him anyway, because he was that kind of friend.

“You won’t fuck it up. Because if he loves you as much as you do, there will be nothing in this world that you two can’t take on with. And if something happens, you know where to find me.”

Jae wanted to hug him so badly.

Jae still _wants_ to hug him so badly.

Sammy had been there for him since the first day they had met. A fateful meeting in the rain right in front of their dorm building, Jae’s mother doing her motherly thing with prodding at his things, and this nice boy came up to him with a friendly smile, asked to help, only to find out they’re roommates from now on.

Sammy was easy-going, all smiles and no hatred, a true friend till the end. Even when he watched Jae going down the wrong way, lying pitiful in the rain with wounds scattered over his body, even when he found the drugs in his bag and scolded him like a good friend would do, Sammy had always taken him into his arms with silent prayers and whispered encouragements that everything’s going to be okay.

His memories are full of pictures of them sitting on the bathroom floor, Jae breaking down in Sammy’s arms, trying to confess the bad things they made him do, but he never spilled the words, instead he threw up on so many sweaters Sammy owned – and even then he never pushed Jae away. He held him closer with every sob and tear, a small light in such desperate times.

When the elevator plings again to reveal the bright, sterile hospital hallway, Jae bolts out of the small room to get away from the ghost of his past, haunting him to the room Jae flees into.

“Why are you running away from me, Jae?”

Sammy closes the door softly behind him and tries to catch Jae’s gaze. Jae however doesn’t want to look into his face and see the confusion, the hope and hurt drawn in his lines. Sammy got older and, as an idol, even more handsome than he was before. Like a model out of a magazine.

If there only would be words that could explain Sammy everything in just one sentence.

“Jae?” Sammy hesitantly tries again. “I just want to understand what’s going on here. I mean, you are—have been… dead.” The way his eyebrows furrow, his eyes glazed over and hands trembled; Jae knows too well how an incoming emotional breakdown feels like. “I was at your funeral, you know?”

And not once had he raised his words. Jae would be okay with a punch to his face, hell, Sammy has all rights to kill him. Jae was—is-- a bad friend, there is nothing worse that you could do to a friend; make them believe you are dead when you’re joining a mob instead. Oh, well, Sammy doesn’t know about the mob, though.

“I am—Dead. Technically. On papers. I needed to disappear for a bit.”

This sounds pitiful even to Jae’s ears. No wonder that Sammy’s face falls.

“For years? I thought you were dead for over seven years!”

Jae winces at the pain in Sammy’s voice. He doesn’t deserve someone like Sammy as his friend. He’s too good for this world that Jae is trapped in.

“It’s complicated.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sammy takes a few steps toward him and Jae backs up until his back meets the wall. There is no way to escape Sammy and his pleading eyes now.

“Younghyun is here.”

Confusion makes it way on Sammy’s face. “Who’s Younghyun?”

“Brian.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Sammy’s face turns into something hurt, as if Jae punched him in the face. Jae can’t blame him; he knows how this looks like.

“That guy that threw you into that whole mess in the first place?”

That’s what it all comes down to.

It’s always about Brian. His memories, his every thought, even this whole story, they all come down to Brian. Brian here, Brian there, Jae is obsessed with the man. Even at his lowest point, Jae longs for the warmth in Younghyun’s eyes. Jae is ready to throw away every warning, every alarm bell in his mind for that small glint of light shining through the sea of darkness, even if it turns out to be the anchor that drags him down deeper and deeper.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

“You would follow that guy to hell and back, wouldn’t you?” Sammy asks with so much malice in his voice that Jae flinches at the harsh tone. It isn’t like Sammy to be like that, angry and ready to punch someone in the face. “I swear to god, that guy has been bad news ever since—”

“He’s in the hospital, I mean.”

As much as Jae is aware of everything that Sammy throws at him right now, he doesn’t want to be confronted with the truth. It hurts. It’s like looking into a mirror and admitting that the wounds on his face are more than just deep cuts on his face. They are scars that will always remind him of where he belongs to, which solution he had taken when he decided to run away from his problems instead of confronting them.

Sammy grabs at his hair and takes a deep breath. His shoulders fall down in defeat and there it is, that same fond and warm look on his face; now more on the tired side.

“So, my mind hasn’t tricked me when the owner of that casino looked like Brian, huh?”

Jae shakes his head. “No, that’s him. YoungK is his. The name’s even a play of his own.”

“Were you there, too?”

 _Is it the same shit as always?_ Sammy actually means because Sammy isn’t dumb. Even though Jae hadn’t ever told him a thing about the people he was involved with, Sammy made his own conclusions.

“Yes.”

 _I shot a woman myself_ , Jae means instead, but that Sammy won’t ever know. Not when Jae can help it.

Sammy huffs a desperate laugh. “After all these years, nothing has changed. You’re a fool, Jae Park, a goddamn fool.”

Jae knows. He is the biggest fool on this planet and there is nothing that he regrets as much as this.

~~~

There is a certain state of mind that you reach if you look at the same thing for a long time. Just from one moment to another, the view gets blurry and you start thinking about other things. The tree has too many leaves on it to count, the clouds move too fast to make out any shapes, the other rooms are too boring to spy on them.

Jae is scared of this state; the moment where his thoughts rush in and overwhelm him with their intensity and sheer size. His sea becomes an ocean with no land in sight, and waves that pound on the surface never reach the deep end. He reaches the point where enough is enough, but for an ocean, there will never be enough water to be filled with.

He is only a simple human being drowned by his own darkness.

The silence of the hospital room isn’t peaceful anymore. It’s an unwelcomed intruder that presses his problems down on his shoulders together with his companion, the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

Jae is going crazy if things continues like that.

 _Younghyun isn’t waking up_ , a voice whispers into his ear, _Ever_.

For Sammy, Younghyun is the catalyst, the unchanging variable in a string of happenings revolving around Jae who adapts to the situation accordingly.

Only it doesn’t fit to what Younghyun had told him once. That Younghyun is changing because of Jae. That he doesn’t want to have the future he had already laid out for him. Unfortunately, Jae had never asked him what this future would have looked like. Or maybe he did but never got an answer.

What if—

No, Jae can’t do what-ifs. What ifs are the most dangerous things in his state of mind. What-ifs make him hope for something that shouldn’t be there.

And yet the thought doesn’t let him go.

Jae shakes his head. This needs to stop, now!

With the intention to call someone, Jae takes his phone out of his pocket, only to remember that he was checking out what Namjoon is up to in his other life. A new video has been uploaded before he went to the cafeteria, one that he wants to check out asap.

“Huh?”

That isn’t Namjoon rapping. That is someone else, Jae knows him, has seen him somewhere.

The song is dark with a strong beat, the rap just delivering. His eyes bump out of their socket when he sees the over million views just after a few hours, numbers rising steadily. This is so different from Namjoon’s style, this can’t be Namjoon. This is not one of his works.

As the song progresses, Jae understands, even though only slowly, what the other is rapping about. An opposite of Namjoon’s song, poetic and raw with honesty.

_“The moment I face myself brought lowest; it so happens that I'm flying the highest. Please don't let me shine. Don't let me down. Don't let me fly. Now I'm scared.”_

Jae abruptly closes the app and the music stops. Silence is droning in his ears. His notebook lies atop of the table next to the bed, a page open and full of everything he has found out about Kim Namjoon so far. His steady hand takes the pen and writes a small note on the bottom, underlining the words twice to never forget.

It’s time.

Jae stands up and takes the few steps to Younghyun’s side, cradles his cheek in his hand before he leans down and presses a small kiss against the forehead, then against the nose, and at last he hovers over the lips. His breath catches at the thought of tasting them again after years.

“I get us out of here, promise.”

He leans back without ever leaving a kiss on his lips, then takes the notebook and puts it into the pocket of his jacket. With a final glance to Younghyun, he leaves the room and closes the door softly behind him.

The name _Min Yoongi_ adds a light weight to his shoulders.

~~~

There is something eerie about the quietness in this place. Where people would usually laugh and cheer and cry, there is now nothing to be found. The place is clean, as if it’s existing in an entirely different dimension than the rest of Seoul. Walking into a different world, that’s how it feels like.

The memories are fresh on Jae’s mind when his feet drag him over the marble floor. He can point out moments with his fingers and a certain self-assurance that he is going to hit it on point. Like, there he had stood when Younghyun pressed his fingers into his shoulder to give him confusing clues, and over there is the table where Jisung got shot into the shoulder, and right there is the spot where Younghyun fell down after a shot close to his heart, just far enough to not do some lethal damage. And right there is the place where Jennie Kim died from a severe bullet wound through her heart, courtesy of Jae.

A ghost town. The YoungK is a ghost casino right now.

Only a few people are still here, staff who is cleaning the place for its grand reopening under a new owner at the weekend.

Technically, Younghyun is still the legal proprietor of the casino and Dowoon is only the guy who will manage it forth-on, but Younghyun is sleeping the day away in the hospital and the date for his departure to the land of Hollywood approaches fast.

“Jae-hyung!”

Dowoon’s deep voice is loud and reverberates through the wide, empty halls. Jae smiles at the younger and gives him a small wave.

It’s not long before they are sat at the bar, Jae in his usual place, the by now usual drink between his fingers. They clink their glasses against each other, taking a small swig from it.

“I’m surprised to see you here, hyung.”

Jae’s mouth forms a small smile at the pleasant vibe that Dowoon’s voice gives off. “The hospital drove me crazy.”

Dowoon grunts in agreement. His fingers play with the glass, pushing it between his hands. “Nothing’s changed?”

“Nope, Younghyun’s still playing sleeping beauty.”

“Maybe you should try kiss him then.” Dowoon even has the guts to smile teasingly at him. That disrespect.

(As if Jae hadn’t already had the same thought.)

But that’s not why he is here though. His initial plan was to check out the casino just for his peace of mind, to know that the damage isn’t as bad as he remembers it. Now, though, that Dowoon is sitting here and Sammy’s visit is fresh on his mind, there is something he wants to get out.

“Say, Dowoonie,” he starts slowly. “If Wonpil asked you to elope… would you do that?”

Dowoon startles in his seat, his eyes the double size than usual, mouth slightly open. He looks more shocked than surprised. “Did Wonpil ask you to do that?”

“No! No, no, I’m talking hypothetically. And not about Wonpil.”

Dowoon’s eyebrows find their way back down, further and further until they’re furrowed. “Then… You want to ask Younghyun to elope with you?”

“No,” Jae heaves a heavy sigh, slumping in defeat. “It’s just my way of asking you if you would give up your current life if the right person asked you to.”

“Oh.”

Here is the deal with Dowoon:

When Jae met Dowoon for the first time ever, he was young, shy and pure. Like really innocently pure. Now, he is still shy and young, but not so pure anymore. A hooker can only be as innocent as the stigma comes with it. Yet, Dowoon has still this pure aura that appeals to Jae’s brotherly side. Dowoon is trustworthy, can hold a secret when he has to and is sweetly caring to his older brothers.

Jae knows it’s because Dowoon doesn’t have any other family anymore. It’s this aspect that makes Jae question so thrilling to know; if Dowoon would exchange his criminal family for the chance of an innocent life with the person he cherishes the most.

“I think,” Dowoon eventually says after long minutes to think through it. “It depends on the situation.”

“Which situation?”

Dowoon hums while his lips purse. “Well, what happens to me. You see, I have a rather good life. Sure, I’m a human trafficker and deal with dangerous people all the time, but that’s what my job entails. I chose this life and I’m happy with it. I have you guys, my girls and boys in the brothels, and Wonpil always has my back.”

He has a point. Jae is still disappointed hearing it.

“But back when someone actively tried to kill me during an assault in my own club, I have to confess, I did entertain the thought that in a normal life this wouldn’t have happened. What if I die and will never see the people I love again? Then again, this is a selfish thought. I wouldn’t know the people I love if I weren’t a mobster. I’m okay with what I’m doing. What I mean is…” That’s when Dowoon puts a hand on his shoulder, and his eyes have this deepness in them that is so unusual for the younger. Jae’s heart palpitates because he has an inkling of what follows.

“My situation is different from yours,” Dowoon continues. “While I am okay with my life, I can see how this, all of this, is slowly killing you from inside. So, if I can give you an advice… if someone asks you to run the hell away from here, then you know what you’ll have to do. And I have a feeling that Younghyun-hyung would follow you to the end of the world as long as he is allowed to be by your side. Plus, I’ve got your back, promise.”

The world is truly surprising today.

~~~

The bar is sort-of nice. The wood is dark brown, the lights are dimmed, people are chattering. It’s cliched, nothing new, still something nice for a place that is frequented by the people who work around the corner. Jae is used to a different set of standards, something between high-class shiny white tables down to black surfaces because blood isn’t that visible on dark colors.

Some recent pop-hit is blasting through the speakers, animating to toast like thunder, and some people cheer to it. Heck, it’s six in the afternoon and some are already drunk out of their mind. Especially the one trying to do sexy hip thrusts in time with the beat and another one dancing baby shark very sensually, only that it ends up looking very… dumb (Jae is well aware that his dancing isn’t much better, especially if he had one glass too much).

Good thing Jae isn’t here to drink and dance on tables.

Jae straightens the envelope under his arm, then the hood over his head and makes his way towards the hunched over figure at the bar. He lets his gaze swipe over the venue, check if there is someone who shouldn’t be, no CCTVs, perfect.

The man looks up to him, their eyes meet, their heads nod to each other, a drink being swiped over to Jae. Right at the perfect cue, a simple ‘cheers’ in the lyrics of the song, they both clink their glasses together, down the shot, and the envelope changes owners under swift fingers.

“Next round on me.”

The bills leave his fingers while his other hand motions to the dancing group at the table in the back, young boys singing along to the lyrics, their police uniforms slightly askew from all the moving around.

Jae is out of the bar as fast as he has been in, his long legs carrying him over to a small building down the road, just around the corner of the police station. He runs down the stairs where the daylight doesn’t shine through anymore and all colors are lost in the darkness. The air is cool and humid in contrast to the dry summer outside. Water drops from a leaking pipe onto the floor, creating a perfect rhythmic beat.

Two doors open to a small room at the end of the hallway, locked to seal away the insides. Johnny did excellent work, just as Jae expects him to. The room is sparsely furnished. No window, only bare gray walls, a desk with two chairs, and a wide board that nearly covers a whole wall. Mugshots and biographies have been carefully put on the board; red strings connect each photograph with the others. Jae lets his fingers glide along one of the strings, soft and taut.

Then, as expected, steps are echoing off the hallway until the door handle is pushed down with a soft clink. The doors reveal in one swift motion the man behind them, the same man as the hunched over figure in the bar, and a second foreign one who is perched right behind the first with a raised weapon.

“I thought we have the bad blood behind us.” Jae motions with his head to the intruder of their little rendezvous.

“Last time you threatened me in my own investigation room and I’m pretty sure you are the one who put the bullet into Jennie Kim’s head. It’s only for my own safety.” Police inspector Eric Nam strides into the room with much power and pride, the other walking behind with a still aimed weapon. Sweet. “That’s Kevin Woo, my partner.”

“You brought the other American, great.” Jae purses his lips.

“He’s trustworthy and I tell him everything anyway. He’s longer in the police station than I am, so he’ll know if you give me some bullshit information.”

Jae huffs. “How would you know that he isn’t paid by someone else?”

“You haven’t shot him by now, so I count it as a win.” Eric takes out one of the chairs to sit down. “And like I said. I trust him.”

“I can hear you guys, you know?” Kevin decides to jump into the conversation slightly annoyed. At least he took down that stupid gun. “I don’t like this as much as you do, so let’s get it over with, alright?”

“I’m already ahead of you,” Eric grumbles as he takes in the big panel. His eyes trace the red lines and access every information written on it.

Jae steps out of the way to let the police officers inspect the board. He himself soaks in the information like a sponge, finding nothing new that Johnny hasn’t already told him about.

“And here I thought I knew much about Bigbang,” Kevin pipes up in much wonder, then backtracks with a tinge of fear. “But this takes on a whole new dimension.”

“This is much bigger than I anticipated,” Eric agrees with drawn eyebrows and tight pressed lips. His fingers press lightly into his skin, a small movement made deep in thought. “I don’t know where to start.”

What better cue than that to kick off the meeting, huh. Leaning against the table next to Eric, Jae straightens his hood again, his eyes locked on the mugshot of Kwon Jiyong.

“Then let’s start at the beginning.” Jae clears his throat before he continues, “Once Seoul has been a pretty rough place divided into three parts, until—”

“The fire nation attacked?”

Jae throws a nasty glare at Eric’s innocent smile.

“Yang Hyunsuk, Park Jinyoung and Lee Sooman, the three big names that everyone should know. At least, everyone in this business.”

“Isn’t Park Jinyoung one of Jaebeom’s men?”

Kevin shakes his head at his partner’s question. “No, that’s Junior. They share the same name but that’s all they have in common. Except that JYP is the mentor of this whole circus.”

“Mentor?”

“If you would just let me talk!” Jae huffs with his pursed lips. When no one else says anything, he takes a deep breath.

“Your partner’s right, Park Jinyoung is some sort of mentor to the guys. He’s the one who took care of Jaebeom and Sungjin when they were surviving on the streets. Jinyoung is known in public as a philanthropic hospital director who keeps children from the street, but really, he’s just a misogynist ex-gangster who uses his hospital for money laundering. He’s good at what he’s doing, no one can deny that.

“Lee Sooman is practically the same just for EXO. Well, he is the man in the shadows who made the gods of the east to gods in the first place. He’s like a shadow himself and only the gangs of his own have seen him before. Lee Sooman is untouchable for everyone outside of his network.

“Last but not least, we have Yang Hyunsuk, proud founder of Bigbang and ex-CEO of YG Entertainment. Yup, that’s the label that Choi Seunghyun owns now. Yang Hyunsuk is in jail for some scandal as of now and he’s serving his time without trouble.”

The police inspector takes a breath deep in thought, his forehead creasing with the deepening frown.

“Okay, you are telling me right now that Seoul’s variety of gangs come from just three man?”

Jae shakes his head. “That’s not the point. There are lots of other gangs out there, it’s just so you understand what comes now.”

Eric motions with his hand. “Well, then.”

His hands feel sweaty against each other. He doesn’t know why he is so nervous right now. Johnny and he have been going through the story for some time and again, just to get it right. Jae sticks to the truth for most of the time anyway, it shouldn’t go that bad. This is an easy feat; this is his job. Deceiving people so they eat out of his hands, believing every word that pours out of his mouth. The police officer is only a pawn in his bigger plan, a small figure with no meaning at all.

There is no other way than doing that. He has to. There is something-- rather someone-- waiting for him. Jae’s only option is to pull it off and then go home.

“Bigbang had a large fellowship, but the most important guys are the five at the top. Let’s start with Lee Seunghyun.”

Jae takes a step to the board, his calm hand pointing at the youngest and late member of the gang.

“Lee Seunghyun, born 1990 in Gwangju, former prostitution ringleader and owner of the Sun. He’s dead right now, killed this June by the order of his own boss after he has been booked by the police because Seunghyun got careless.”

“In reality you guys scammed him, didn’t you?” Kevin throws in with a smug grin on his lips. When Jae looks unimpressed by the comment, he shrinks down again.

“Then we have Kang Daesung, born 1989 in Seoul, professional hitman who’s still active. Last sighting has been years ago in Japan, but people talk that he’s back in Korea now.”

“Who talks?”

“Seoul.” Jae smiles at Eric charmingly, only earns an unfazed glare in turn.

“Next one is the other Seunghyun, better known as TOP. Born 1987 in Seoul and Jiyong’s childhood friend. He was Bigbang’s drug lord, maybe the best in Seoul if it hadn’t been for the Cassiopeia. After YG’s arrest, he took over the record label and is since then known as a great producer and songwriter.

“Dong Youngbae, also known as Taeyang, born 1988 in Uijeongbu, the informant. Taeyang knew everything about everyone, just like a sun.”

“Ha, god joke,” Kevin deadpans dryly.

That kid has some nerves.

“I don’t see where this here is going,” Eric butts in before Jae can talk back.

“Patience, mister police inspector,” Jae chides him like child. “Just so you know who we have to deal with. The last one on our list is of course G-Dragon, the Dragon or just known as Kwon Jiyong, born 1988 in Seoul, leader of the whole group. His current whereabouts and status are unknown as of now, but there are some rumors.”

Eric nods in agreement. “The gangs are restless. I thought at first that it’s because of the shit going down in your territory but something else is happening. Just this morning, our newbies took down a whole drug den.”

Ah, that’s why they have been partying hard in that bar.

“Which reminds me, this could be interesting for you.” Eric leans forward on his hands, looking up straightly into Jae’s eyes. “Someone tipped off the police where to find the drugs the same day someone burnt down a certain warehouse. We only got them now because those junkies were clever enough to not stay in one place for a long time. The drugs they’d been taking has been dirty as shit, though.”

That’s interesting. Interesting enough to put Johnny onto it. He makes a note of this in his mind before he cocks his head towards the board.

“The thing here is, that at this point we’re certain that G-Dragon is coming back to the city – if he hasn’t already done so. Jennie Kim didn’t act on her own, she had someone who backed her up and we all know who.”

Kevin crosses his hands in front of his chest. “But why now? Why not earlier? What happened that he changed his mind to claim his throne back?”

Jae knows why. It’s easy and directly in front of the police officers’ eyes. Gangs only start a war out of two reasons: someone threatens their territory, or someone threatens their family. G-Dragon lost his territory the moment he retreated from the throne in exchange for a calm life and long-lasting legacy, so there is only one thing left why he would to it. That one moment that changed everything.

“Because someone is challenging his legacy.” Jae runs his finger along the red string to the middle, until the tip of his finger touches the face of the one man that he fears more than anyone else. “And this someone is no one else than Kim Namjoon.”

An uncertain laugh suddenly cuts through the tense air. Kevin shoulders shake as he laughs quietly to himself.

“You can’t tell me that G-Dragon, who got out of this business unscathed and like a hero, gets back into the ring because some punk does what he has been doing for years? Sorry, but serve your bullshit somewhere else.”

“Kevin, let’s hear him out first, okay?” Eric admonishes him with a calm voice.

“You’re trusting this piece of shit? He’s a fucking gangster, it’s their job to lie and deceive, for god’s sake!”

“I know, it’s just—” Eric turns to Jae with a searching glance, looking out for who knows what. Maybe he finds it in Jae’s face, maybe not, but anyways; he only shakes his head then and turns back to Kevin who’s ready to walk out of the door at any second. “There’s something about him that tells me he isn’t complete bullshit. He gets us more intel than any other low-tier informant we’ve ever had. Did you know that TOP is one of G-Dragon’s childhood friends? Because I didn’t and this is such valuable information.”

The following seconds are filled with tense silent and stand-off glare contest between the two policemen and Jae watching them as if he is imprisoned in a western action movie. Who’s Jae in that action? The femme fatal? Nah, that role fits perfectly to Younghyun. Sexy, deceiving, charming with his smile, and full of shit to the brim of his hat. Meanwhile Jae is the lone detective who knows all about it and yet is none the wiser at all.

“Okay, okay, but if he tells us any bullshit again, I swear, I’m out of here,” Kevin eventually resigns in defeat. Eric in turn gives Jae a small smile in victory and huh, that’s cute. That’s the first time he sees the guy smile.

Jae clears his throat again. “Yeah, anyways. What I wanted to say before… Kim Namjoon is actively planning to take down everything G-Dragon stood for and overwrite his legacy with his own. His first plan was to get rid of the Sun.”

“And because Seunghyun wouldn’t ever do business with someone like Kim Namjoon—”

It’s satisfying to see that look of epiphany on Eric’s face. As if every puzzle falls into place because Jae gave him the last missing piece.

“Fucking shit,” Kevin mutters under his breath. “You have been working with Kim Namjoon all this time?”

“No,” Jae shakes his head. “And am not doing it now. Namjoon just asked for this one thing and I figured it wouldn’t be so bad to own one of the biggest nightclubs in the area. I mean, it is next to our territory. And Namjoon did bribe the guy to rat out Seunghyun to the police.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. First, Namjoon pays off one prostitute to sell out Seunghyun to the police, then you get Seunghyun out of prison and take the Sun from him as payment. And because of that, G-Dragon, who thinks that Seunghyun got careless, orders someone to kill the guy and tries to get the club back before you guys sell it to EXO.” A perfect summarize from Eric with a few flaws in there, but he doesn’t need to know that. That’s only for Jae to know, the real motif and murderer of Seunghyun. “But I don’t understand… why? Why is G-Dragon so interested in the Sun? I mean, he retreated from the throne.”

Jae shrugs his shoulders. “Who knows. But think about the following thing: There is probably a pretty solid reason why TOP is where he is right now; on top of a record label after his own mentor went to jail.”

“You think G-Dragon sent his old mentor to jail?”

“He’s serving his time peacefully, isn’t he?”

Jae should take a picture. The wide eyes and open mouths are priceless. He loves the face they both do, so baffled as if some miracle has been happening.

“Fucking shit,” Kevin mutters again with a voice full of disbelief.

Yeah, fucking shit.

What faces they would make when they find out how much of the truth Jae has been telling them? Well, there’s no way to find out now, huh?

While the police inspectors are still talking about the files, even when Jae announces his retreat from the room, he watches them closely for any clues if they are believing him enough of his shit. He knows that they take everything with a grain of salt, but the disbelief of getting new information that is so valuable to them made them ate it just right out of his hand.

Don’t think he is a bad guy. Eric’s partner is right, Jae is a gangster who deceives and manipulates people for a living. The only person that matters in this world, in _his_ world, is only him and then only him (and maybe Younghyun and Wonpil and Dowoon and even Sungjin a little bit).

G-Dragon didn’t kill Seungri. Younghyun did and the thought that G-Dragon may know it is terrifying him to the bones. Jae knew what he was getting into, but it should have been Wonpil who pulled the trigger. It should have been Jae who killed the man, anyone, but not Younghyun.

Now it doesn’t matter anymore. Younghyun is in danger, already lying in a coma because Jennie Kim put a bullet through his chest and that only for a nightclub. Imagine what happens when Daesung finds them. Things will certainly go wild.

~~~

The thing is; Jae lied about more than just one thing.

It’s raining on this August day, heavily so. Thunder rumbles through the air and lightnings decorate the gray sky. The rain pitters against his black umbrella, a steady rhythm forming a calm beat amidst the summer storm. While Seoul is a buzzling city full of people, the outskirts here are calmer, quieter. It’s eerily so.

The air is thick with muffled cries and mourning words, not even a bird chirping in the air. People all dressed in black are scattered all over the place, their shiny shoes drenched in mud and rain. Umbrellas bath the sight into waves of black. A woman stands at the front, weeping loudly with her husband holding her tight to his side.

Jae stands afar from the scene. He lets his eyes sweep over the guests of the funeral, then stops when he sees the one person he is searching for. A lean figure draped in a long black coat; head held high with a downturn of their lips. Dark strands are neatly combed back, the tips reaching the deep red scarf winding around their neck. A black fedora is nestled securely between the figure’s fingers. Two bulky man surround them, one holding an umbrella over their head, the other with his hands intertwined in front of him.

For a last time, Jae checks his own blonde fringe, neatly parted and combed away from his face. He pushes his glasses up his nose and straightens the lapels of his own black coat with his fingers dressed in black leather, before he takes a last deep breath and pushes forward into the mass of people.

Lucky for him, his target stands far off from the mourning crowd, either as an outsider or a protector, Jae doesn’t know. The bodyguards’ eyes flitter over to him, otherwise they don’t move, even when Jae stops next to the shorter figure. Silence engulfs them, the rain and weeping mother setting the mood of the scene.

On the outside, Jae is calm and collected. His face wears a fake mourning look, his clothes are as neatly as they can get, and the heavy make-up covers any wound still lingering on his face and the deep black rings under his eyes. His hair is void of any artificial color, only the bleached blond that makes him stand out in a crowd of black hairs and hats.

His insides, though, they feel mushy and jelly. His stomach is tightened in knots, his heart beats in his throat, his hands tremble lightly. His eyes do their thing again where they won’t stop blinking, but at least he has control over his breathing. Where he doesn’t feel calm, he at least looks like it.

Jae licks his lips while he collects all of his courage to make the first move, when the other beats him to him.

“Park Jaehyung.”

His heart stops at the call of his own name. Is it good that he is being recognized or is it a sign of his impending doom?

“How can I be of help?”

Jae doesn’t miss the threat hidden beneath cold words of nicety.

“I’m just here to pay my last respect.”

The figure hums. “Do you now?” Jae doesn’t dare to turn to the figure. His feet are rooted on the spot and his whole body goes rigid. “I think your mere presence here is disrespectful toward the family.” He can feel the eyes drilling into the back of his head.

“Maybe I’m not here to be respectful towards her family. I just wanted to talk to you about business.”

The figure huffs a dry laugh. “Did you hear that?” he asks his motionless bodyguards. “He wants to talk about business.”

Not so motionless now, Jae hears the click of the safety guard being released, the telltale of a weapon being targeted at him. Not only seconds later he feels the pressure of hard metal against his neck.

“Fuck off as long as you can, bastard.”

Jae takes a deep breath, one, two, before he takes a leap of faith and turns around to face the figure. Their eyes meet, no shot made. His eyes catch the ends of black lines whirling around the skin on the figure’s neck, beautiful wings peeking out of the silken scarf.

“I have valuable information for you,” Jae tries again. No one has killed him by now, Jae takes that as a good sign and decides to push even further. “We both could benefit if we work together.”

The figure looks him dead in the eye. His face is blank and cold, nothing gives away what he thinks or desires. Jae is good at reading people, the one in front of him is one of his hardest cases.

“Why should I be interested to work with someone who has the nerve to show up at his own victim’s funeral?” The figure takes a step forward, entering Jae’s personal space without a second blink, fletching their teeth with cold rage in their eyes. A finger hooks under Jae’s lapel, pulling him down to without any strength behind the movement. “Let me rephrase it for you: Why should I work with someone who killed not only one but two of my own men?”

“Technically, I only killed one person and I only did that to protect one of my own.”

Has this been the right or the wrong thing to say? Jae doesn’t know, he can’t read the situation, not with the other being so blank, and his own heart racing so hard against his chest.

“What do you want, Park Jaehyung? There is nothing that you can offer me that will make me reconsider if I should kill you or not.”

He still isn’t dead. He is _not dead,_ Jae says again and again in his head.

“I know what Kim Namjoon is planning and what he wants from you. I can tell you everything I know, I can help you, I—”

Jae startles when the figure starts to laugh, loudly and highly amused, at Jae’s rather rambled offer.

“I don’t care what Kim Namjoon wants from me. The only thing I know is that you and your guys killed not only Jennie but also Seunghyun. There is no way that you are not going to pay for it.”

“But if you only knew what Namjoon is trying to accomplish, you would wish you listened to me. I can help you to take down the king of Seoul and make you king again.”

The figure shakes their head and huffs an annoyed breath. “I don’t know who gave you those ideas, but I don’t want that throne again. Kim Namjoon doesn’t interest me and neither does the rest. I only care about my family.”

“I know that. But because of that you have to hear me out. Seunghyun wouldn’t be dead if Namjoon hadn’t made me do it.”

Has this done the trick? Pretty please, Jae needs this small success. His life is hanging on the thread of this success, literally. The gun is uncomfortably pressing against his shoulder and even the bodyguard’s hand has found its way on his arm.

Thankfully, the other rises one eyebrow. An emotion, something, at least now Jae knows he’s on the right track.

“If you give me the possibility to explain everything to you,” Jae tries again, “everything will fall into place and you can pursue whatever it is you’re doing right now. One chance, nothing more.”

His own umbrella lies forgotten in the rain. The crowd has long disappeared. Flowers surround the gray tombstone and fill the place with so much color. Candles are sheltered in small glasses, bright small lights in the darkness.

The man in front of him cocks his head to the side, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. Tense silent seconds stretch between them, filling Jae with so much dread and hope at the same time.

“What do you get out of the deal?”

He is considering it. Jae lets the breath he has held go. This is good, really good.

“Nothing, you don’t have to do anything for me. I’ve already made my own plans. I promise you that you won’t regret us working together.”

When the other starts to chuckle, his heart plummets to his knees.

“You really think that I’m considering this?” He steps back into Jae’s personal bubble, only inches between their faces and a hand closing around Jae’s neck. “This is my promise to you, Park Jaehyung. Listen and be so kind to tell Kang Younghyun the same when he finally wakes up again: You took some people that are dear to me, and I will only return the favor. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, understood?”

The rain gets heavier without the shelter of his umbrella, the black stained with brown mud, flown away by the howling wind. Thunder cackles in the air and lightning strikes again. Jae doesn’t flinch when the rumble is deafening, not when his heart is beating in terror. He is drenched to his bones, bones that are shaking in fear.

_Where has he heard those words before again?_

He is left alone on the graveyard with his first and hopefully last victim buried a few feet away from him, lying next to all the other bloody corpses Jae left in all his years being part of the mob. Corpses on his path drag him down deeper into the dark ocean, but it’s the corpses of the future that cut off his breath.

_Right, he remembers._

Has this been a terrible mistake? To come here and try to make amends with the most powerful man of the underground after he killed one of his? Jae isn’t sure. He knows that it doesn’t matter at all, Kwon Jiyong would have killed someone dear to Jae at one point or another, with or without Jae’s visit to Jennie’s funeral. Only now, Jae knows for sure, that G-Dragon is here in Seoul and he is out there to get blood on his hands.

And what G-Dragon promises to do, he will make sure to keep.

_Brian has once told him the same._

_Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, this is how this world works._

~~~

The sound of retching echoed through the room that is decorated with yellow tiles and ugly pink sanitary furniture. The shower curtain was of a green and purple color, the floor a small mosaic with black and gray points.

Jae clung to the toilet as if his life depended on it, hunched over to empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl. Tear marks streaked his face and snot clogged his nose. His throat burned, everything burned, and he wanted it so much to stop. Just stop the misery he had found himself in so suddenly.

Another figure stormed into the room and fell to their knees next to Jae. A hand patted against his back and the other swept the long black bangs out of his face. “Hey, hey, everything’s going to be fine.”

With the last of his strength he found in his body, he pushed the other away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Jae—”

“No, don’t you dare to touch me!”

Jae sounded frantic, looked probably even worse, but who wouldn’t if they had seen the same as him. The picture would never leave his mind, never ever again.

“Come here, please,” the other pleaded calmly, a tinge of desperation seeping into their voice.

“Leave me the fuck alone, you psychopath!”

He saw how the other flinched at his words. They must have hurt him deep down and Jae hated how he could feel the pain in his own heart. He felt so much pain in that moment, his heart scattered in shards like the world that had broken around him. Everything suddenly changed, from one minute to the other.

“Jae, please, come here.”

Jae had never been strong. He was weak, even back then, to the warm embrace of Brian. He loved how Brian, despite being the shorter of them both, could engulf him in such a warm embrace. He loved it when Brian was all over him, pressing kisses into his skin, but then, in that moment, it felt so wrong and disgusting. This wasn’t the Brian he knew, this was someone entirely else.

“I got you,” Brian mumbled into Jae’s hair while he rocked them both back and forth.

Jae’s panicked sobs wouldn’t recede, no matter what Brian said, no matter the words, the tight arms around his shoulders. Jae tried so hard to push him away, to get space to breathe and away from the monster in front of him; but that monster was still the man he loved, this was so fucked up in so many ways.

“You just killed someone! You put a fucking bullet into his head! You didn’t even flinch or hesitated, you just fucking killed another person just like that! This is fucked up!”

“This is what I do, Jae,” Brian mumbled into his hair.

Jae pressed his hands against Brian’s chest and throat to get him finally off of him. He couldn’t breathe and another nauseous wave threatened to make him retch again. Blood. There had been so much blood. A direct shot through the head, the brain scattered behind the dead. It looked so disgusting; it was something Jae didn’t want to see in his life again.

“This is my life, Jae. Killing people is my job. I’m a hitman, I told you so.”

“Hearing and seeing it are two different pair of shoes!”

“He only got what he deserved.”

“No one deserves to die!”

“He killed one of ours, we returned the favor. That’s how things work here.”

“This is bullshit!”

Their voices were echoing off the old bathroom. The whole building could probably hear their discussion, a bad thing considering they were talking about killing people. This could mean so much trouble. When people only asked the wrong questions, Brian had to kill them and that would be Jae’s fault. Fuck.

He pressed Brian’s face away with his hand to get back space for vomiting into the toilet again. His throat burned and more tears spilled out of his eyes while his mind conjured up more and more pictures of the dead man again. Brian’s warm hand pushed his hair out of his face, the other caressed his back, accompanied with the supporting and calm words spilling out of his mouth.

“You have to understand this, Jae,” Brian pleaded to him quite desperately. “This is the world I have been born into. The mob is my family and this man killed one of my own. It’s deeply engraved in my blood. You take something important from me, I’ll take something from you. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.”

Even when Jae leaned back with a loud sob, even when he pushed him away and scratched at hands, Brian didn’t let go of him. Instead, he pulled him further into him, wiping off the tears with his thumbs, never stopping the haunting lecture of what it meant to be a mobster.

“This is how the mob works— we are a family, loyal until death. When the boss tells me to kill that man, I kill that man without a question. It doesn’t matter how I think or feel about it, his word is my command. I can’t deny him, else I’m dead.”

How was this the world that Brian lived in? How did he get in there? What on earth made him join a mob? Jae didn’t understand – never would until the day he himself made the decision to become one of them.

His body went limb. He felt defeated. Brian’s arms were there to catch him, so warm and caring from a man who had just killed someone with an emotionless face. Jae’s head lulled to the side, his swollen eyes looking up into broken dark ones.

“Is this how it will always end?”

Even in pain, even when the soul was tormented, Brian’s eyes were so pretty. His angel with that endearing voice who now had broken black wings, exposing himself as the biggest sinner of them all, Lucifer walking astray on the surface of a deep black ocean, a path of blood and corpses behind him.

The urge to touch him had always been strong. His hand sneaked up to Brian’s face, cradling the side into his palm, so warm.

How could he have been so wrong?

“In death?”

Jae sounded so broken, so desperate, the word nearly inaudible in the tearing sob.

Brian turned his head to press a kiss into the palm, to hide the vain mirrored in his eyes, but Jae could see it clearly. The darkness that he had always thought of deepness was only the hidden passenger; a shadow that grew bigger and bigger the more light shone upon them.

“That’s the only way out.”

Jae’s hand slid down to Brian’s throat, this thumb flitted up and down over the adam’s apple, a light pressure.

“Either you’ll die as a mobster—”

He increased the pressure of his palm, squeezing Brian’s neck hard. The gesture was filled with so much anger and desperation. His teeth were clenched together, the tears never stopped. When he looked up into Brian’s eyes, he only saw the shadow growing in size, the eyes hooded with darkness, the mouth open so sinfully.

“—or as traitor.”

Brian sounded so breathless when spoke, but he didn’t recoil. Not once did he break the eye contact, sturdy and stubbornly waiting for something to happen. As if he had accepted death when it was Jae who brought it upon him, as if he was daring him to do so, giving Jae the right to judge and execute.

In a sudden moment, just right after Jae let go, Brian caught his wrist in his hand and surged forward at the same time. His lips were pressing hard against Jae’s own, sucking and biting and licking hungrily. Jae didn’t know what to do with himself, utterly overwhelmed with the roughness and desperation of the moment.

“Promise me to never become one of us,” Brian growled between kisses. “Stay as far away from me as you can.”

It was then that something snapped in Jae. Something that had been torn before now broke completely, a floodgate that let in that darkness, a deep ocean that began to fill the white emptiness.

At that moment, Jae felt lost and found at the same time. He was in the arms of the man he loved so dearly before. He craved this love with every fiber of his body. A passion burning sickly, hiding the growing fear behind it. Jae had found so much in Younghyun, a human being so dearly to him, whose shadow proved to be so much bigger than Jae could have ever imagined.

The promise was lost between kisses. Maybe if Younghyun hadn’t kissed him with so much emotion, maybe then Jae would have made true to the promise. Never again would he have stood in front of the door to apartment 10b, every time with a new wound to his body. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been falling into the endless ocean, finding himself on a path filled with blood and bodies, pressing the trigger to protect the one thing that kept him sane and made him insane at the same time.

“Run away with me,” Jae later whispered into heated and sweat drenched skin. “This doesn’t have to end in death. Run away with me, Younghyun.”

A hand on the back of his head, pushing him up to let lips meet lips, sweet and filled with some finality.

“I wish I could.” To hear Younghyun’s voice filled with so much grief and regret made his heart bleed. “I would follow you to the end of the world if I could. But I can’t.”

His lips trembled against the other’s. “Why not?”

“I just killed a person.”

“I know.” Jae leaned up to press his forehead against Younghyun’s, his palms cradling the sides of Younghyun’s face into them. “I know—but I love you.”

Younghyun grimaced at the words while his eyes glazed over. A rare emotion found in his eyes, something that broke something deep in Jae. “You hated me for it.”

“I didn’t—I—I’ve never seen someone kill someone else before, that’s why I freaked out. If we run away together, you’ll never have to kill someone again.”

“It won’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“No, no, no, no, I decide who I deserve and who not. I love you, Younghyun, I love you so much. I need you more than anything. I am nothing without you.”

Now it was Younghyun who cradled Jae’s face into his palm. He leaned up and pushed Jae away, a look so serious on his face that it scared Jae to hear what he was going to say.

“You are so much more without me than with me.” His thumb swiped over his cheek, drying the tear that escaped Jae’s eye. “Look at us. We only destroy each other. You made me see the wrongs I do in my life and I made you see the shadows of this world. You showed me a life that I can’t ever have, and I showed you a life that you should never have been part of.”

“I don’t regret a thing.”

“No, don’t say that. I know that you regret this. That you wish it would never have happened. It’s okay to wish that. I do, too.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“I want to hate you so much. Instead, I love you with every word more and more. It hurts so much to only think about a life without you.”

“Now you’re getting sappy.”

They both chuckled at Younghyun’s little jab. God, why was it so satisfying to see Younghyun laugh?

“See? You make me laugh.”

“You laugh at fourteen-years-old’s vines.”

“Yah!” He swatted at Younghyun’s chest. “Have you seen them before?”

“They’re from fourteen-years-old teenagers, of course they’re not funny.”

“Ok, boomer.”

“You’re older than me!”

The next day when Jae wandered over to the campus for his next class, his hands trembling and eyes swerving from one person to another in paranoia of finding the police – or worse, someone of the other gang – he thought about the last night with a heavy heart. Younghyun had told him again and again to never come back again, to forget about everything, from the killed person up to their relationship.

Only when Jae sat in the lecture with his head turned towards the window to watch the rain falling heavily, ignoring Sammy’s many tries to hold a conversation, he realized with every second ticking away that he didn’t want to leave Younghyun behind. He knew this was a bad idea, the worst he could ever have because Jae had seen what it meant to be part of a mob; however, the memories of their time together, sleepless nights and domestic mornings, lingering kisses and fleeting touches, they all swirled around in his mind as if to show Jae all the things he might lose if he decided to do the morally right thing.

Younghyun killed a person in front of Jae, a reality he had suppressed before. Now it wasn’t possible anymore, faced with the truth of the situation. Still, his heart couldn’t let go of it. He wanted it. He was addicted to the attention Younghyun gave him. He was addicted to Younghyun.

Back then, Jae hadn’t known any better.

Today, Jae does.

Today, Jae sits in a car and watches the rain fall outside, a symphony accompanied by thunder and lightning.

Back then, Jae’s mind was untouched from the darkness, bathed in innocent white light.

Today, Jae’s hands are painted in red while he drowns in the dark ocean, deeper and deeper to the corpses he is the reason of their death.

Between Jae back then and Jae today lie worlds, a different person with the same roots, changed from the severity of their situation. Jae from the past longed for a life in the sky, high up above the city. Jae from the present longs for home and the innocence he will never get back again.

Yet, both Jaes share the same hope; a life far away from all they know, together with that singer he met back in the bar.

Oh, the irony, that even after everything that had happened Jae still dreams about a life with Younghyun. Years of accusing and distancing himself from Younghyun, from separating Brian from Younghyun, and yet here he is, wondering how their lives would have looked like if Younghyun had taken his hand and ran away with him that night.

Much can change in one night.

His thoughts get suddenly disrupted by the ring of his phone; a call from Wonpil. Jae doesn’t get to say a word as Wonpil beats him to it the second he takes the call.

“Where are you right now?” Something’s up. Wonpil sounds urgent. Wonpil never sounds urgent. Jae’s stomach plummets.

“What happened?”

“You need to come to the hospital, asap!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cited songs are from BTS's "Persona" and "Interlude: Shadow" because I am a sucker for their solo rap songs.
> 
> Next week - Track 9: When things are hard you can lean on me and rest


	9. Track 9: When things are hard you can lean on me and rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title + song that is later referenced in the text is from Day6 - I'll try

“You look good tonight. Going somewhere?”

His freshly bleached hair didn’t sit like Jae wanted it to. A lonely strand stuck out from the other and no matter how much spray he’d put into it, it wouldn’t get down into that side-swept style he wanted. It’s the last thing that had to be done for Jae to be ready for his night out on that Tuesday.

“Isn’t that your favorite sweater?”

He was still ignoring the person leaning against the doorframe in favor of tucking the strand back into its place, then to push the glasses back up his nose and a last skin check. No new blemishes and the light make-up covered the rest of them. Perfect.

“I’m meeting up with someone,” Jae eventually answered with a tight smile on his face. His fingers straightened out the sweater and then the skinny jeans, tapping then against the sides of his thighs to check whether he had everything or not.

His roommate whooped at the small confession with that bright eye-smile he had. He looked more excited about the oncoming date than Jae.

“Is it sexy guitar guy?”

When a light blush crept along Jae’s cheeks, his roommate began to laugh heartily.

“It _is_ sexy guitar guy from the bar! When did you get his number?”

Jae swatted the oncoming hands away because Sammy could get obnoxious when he got excited, like, he tried to ruffle up Jae’s hair for a wilder look. Jae looked wild enough as for now, thank you very much.

“I’ve told ya already, he gave it to me last Friday. And now, hands off my pretty hair.”

Sammy snorted. “You’re the only one who calls your bird-nest pretty.”

“It’s a bird-nest when you get your hands in it. As for now—”

“You look like chicken little. Literally. The way you styled it and those glasses—” Jae puffed his cheek as Sammy laughed at him. “Someone should put a picture of him next to yours and write ‘Spot the difference, I don’t see one’ over it. You’re gonna be an internet meme, for sure.”

“At least I’ll be famous then. See you in Hollywood, bitch!”

Jae used the laughter as distraction and stormed out of his room to get his last things for his date. It’s shy to be seven and they arranged to meet at half past. That gave Jae enough time to take the bus to the bar when he would leave in a few seconds and then he would see Brian again.

His heart fluttered.

It was his first date since forever. He hit the jackpot with Brian; that man was so hot and beautiful. Jae still couldn’t believe his luck that someone like Brian would ask out someone like Jae. Maybe Brian was blind or he hadn’t ever looked into a mirror. Or maybe Jae had been so full of meds and alcohol that he made the whole conversation up in his mind. Welp, he was going to see if Brian was there once he arrived (spoiler alert: Brian was there and their date had been nothing less than perfect).

Only when he put his keys into his pocket did Sammy arrive in the hallway and stopped Jae from leaving. His amused expression was replaced with a much more somber and serious look.

“Take care, okay? I don’t want to find you lying death in a street.”

Jae smiled lightly but quickly replaced it with a frown with his lips still quirking. “I can take care of me. I’m an adult now.”

“I know. Just, bad people are out there and you’re not exactly in shape to beat them up. And if guitar guy turns out to be an asshole, do what has to be done.”

“Throw a drink into his face?”

“What? No! What’s wrong with you?”

“Aw, bummer, always wanted to do this.” Jae shrugged.

Sammy threw him a knowing smile. “Nervous much?”

That was the downside of having a roommate; he knew all sides of you, the good and the bad ones. A good roommate can read you like a book. Sammy was the kind who could recite Jae’s whole being in his sleep. He knew all of his ticks and tells and even more so, he liked to call Jae out on them.

“Not really. It’s only a date.”

A simple chuckle escaped from his roommate’s throat. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he said, completely ignoring Jae’s lies. “If he’s the right one for you, you’ll know it. And if not, your bro’s here for you, a single pringle forever.”

Not going to lie but Jae appreciated the sentiment very much, even more so in the present. It’s a warm feeling to know that there was someone out there who always had his back. Unfortunately, Jae didn’t deal very good with sentimental feelings, so he just retorted,

“I really have to leave now if I want to catch the bus.”

Sammy patted his shoulders, nodding a few times like his old man would do. He should call his parents again, Jae mused, as he slipped through the door and ran to catch the elevators.

“Go, get him, tiger!” Sammy called behind him with much sarcasm and seriousness in his voice. “And if you end up lying half-death in a street, call me!”

(It was only weeks later when Jae did call Sammy. Sammy instantly knew something’s up when he heard Jae’s broken voice --his breathing hardly regular-- was disrupted by a sob. It was raining that night. Sammy arrived in the darkness, a bright yellow umbrella over his head.

The umbrella got left behind when Sammy dragged Jae out of that street into a waiting cab.)

~~~

Jae makes it to the hospital in record time. He’s out of the car before he even knows that he arrived, his feet bringing him down the hall deeper into the building, floor after floor, forgoing the elevator completely.

His neat, blond hair is a mess by now, the first buttons of his shirt lose just like his tie; where he looked perfectly together at the funeral, he now screams mess from head to toe.

The hospital is big, the hallway’s long, the number of rooms too damn high. Wonpil’s urgent voice is still ringing in his ears, making his heart race along to his steps. And when arrives in front of the door, his hand touches the door handle and something just—everything stops.

It feels like a déjà-vu.

Back then when he entered the room for the first time, he had hesitated, too. Dread of what he might find behind the door overwhelms him because suddenly, thousands of questions are pushing themselves to the front of his mind. When he opens the door now, in this moment, everything will change.

A simple principle. You will never know what lies behind the door if you never open the door in the first place. Although, Jae already knows what he is going to find behind the door. Wonpil had told him such on the phone and it’s the sole reason for why he ran back here.

All that is left for him to do is to take a deep breath and calm down. His heart recedes its beating to a normal pace, his breathing slows down evidently, and the redness of his skin tones down to a healthy blush. Jae is ready to push the door open and see what lies behind.

Only, he isn’t. Ready, that is.

Jae will never be ready to face the man in that room.

Embracing Sammy’s old words in his heart (“Go, get him, tiger”), Jae pushes the handle down and opens the door with a dramatic bump into the wall.

His sight is flooded with light, brightening the dark hallway completely until his eyes get used to it. All heads in the room are turned toward him. From Wonpil’s usual blank expression except for a small glint of emotion gleaming in them, over Dowoon’s double-sized eyes from the scare of someone throwing the door open, to Sungjin’s frown; yet there is only one face that is the most important for Jae.

And this face bears those intense eyes he loves more than anything in this world.

Is there a word to explain what Jae is feeling right now in this moment? This feeling, it’s always the same.

When he met Younghyun for the first time ever, Jae was instantly caught by the sheer beauty of that man on the stage. Not only because he was pretty – he was, still is – everything could be described as beautiful. The voice, the music, his whole demeanor. Give Jae a dictionary and he would put Younghyun’s picture next to the word beautiful.

It needed only one second for Jae to know that he would inevitably fall in love with him as if it was predestined by god himself.

Ever since that first moment, Jae experiences those from time to time again once he meets Younghyun – falling in love with that sheer beauty that pained him so much over and over again. Meeting Younghyun is like a double-edged sword; there is first the euphoria of finding salvation for a mediocre life, full of being looked down ever since, and then there is the pain of seeing the shadows devouring all good things from the one you love so dearly.

“Hyung!”

His euphoric moment being destroyed, Jae ducks his head in his embarrassment of being called out (technically, no one calls him out. Wonpil only calls him because things get awkward with the whole staring thing).

“Why so formal, hyung?” Dowoon follows up to break the tension in the room.

Jae only now enters fully and closes the door behind him, his fingers already fumbling with his tie to loosen the knot.

“You look ready to go to a funeral,” Sungjin comments on his choice of outfit, hitting the nail on the head without knowing it (better so, Jae is not ready for another round of scolding).

Dowoon whips his head towards Wonpil with raised eyebrows. “Didn’t you tell him why we’re all here?”

Wonpil shrugs. “I did, maybe he didn’t hear correctly? Jae-hyung isn’t the best listener after all.”

“Yah!”

“However!” Sungjin says with some finality in his voice. “We’re just glad that we all can be together again. All of us.”

“Me especially!”

Strange thing that is his heart. Even though Jae has just calmed it down to a normal pace, it starts to flutter again when the deep voice echoes through the room after dreadful days of not hearing it. Odd in a way because Jae is used to not hearing from him for days, sometimes even weeks, but now the relief that fills his whole body is nothing compared to the resentment that has built up over the years.

Younghyun is alive. Younghyun is awake. Nothing has changed.

And because nothing changed, Jae only crosses his arms over his chest to hold back the feelings that threaten to spill out of him. Hopefully, no one had said anything to Younghyun about his breakdowns occurring over the course of the last days.

For Younghyun, nothing has changed. He has been asleep, and time was frozen.

For Jae, everything had changed that moment the trigger was pulled. Jae had been awake, and days have gone by.

“How are you feeling?” His voice sounds so meek and vulnerable that Jae winces at himself, which Younghyun, ah, Brian picks up on immediately. The smile that fades away tells him as much.

“I feel good but that’s very likely thanks to the meds I’m on.”

“I’m so glad that she only hit your shoulder and not your heart,” Sungjin groans suddenly. “I swear to god, if she hadn’t been dead already, I would’ve chased her down to kill her with my own bare hands.”

One hundred points to Jae for not flinching at Sungjin’s cheer bloodlust. Ten points minus when this time, Wonpil throws him a confused glance because Jae always comments on things like this.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much,” Younghyun muses loudly. “Everything after Jae tackling me to the ground is kind of blurred.”

Dowoon hums in agreement. “It’s for the better. The casino looked like a battlefield after. My heart was broken at the sight of broken tables and glasses.”

“How is the casino anyways?”

“Well—”

“Ah ah ah!” Wonpil interrupts Dowoon before he can say anything further. “We’re not talking about work right now. Younghyunnie-hyung is supposed to avoid stress, remember?”

“Sorry, hyung, let’s talk about something less stressful.” Silence. Luckily, Dowoon instantly perks up. “For example, the YoungK is ready to open its door this weekend again!”

“That’s business!” Wonpil punches Dowoon into the shoulder to which the youngest groans in pain.

“Then you talk about non-business-y things!” Wonpil earns a nasty glare from Dowoon who shrubs at his shoulder to ease up the pain. “In case you forgot, our life is business. There aren’t much un-business-y things that I do.”

“Yeah, well, you could tell him—for example… uhm…”

Dowoon is right, Jae thinks, their lives are rather uneventful except for their work. Even if he thinks really hard about it, there is nothing much he did that didn’t have anything to do with work. The only things he had done outside of work were—well—was spending most of his time in the hospital. Nothing that Younghyun has to know about.

“How Jae hadn’t left this room in days except for today!”

Or not. Wonpil’s puppy eyes won’t help him to excuse this betrayal. Plus, this is a complete lie!

“I _did_ leave this room, for your information!”

“I had to bring you fresh clothes because you didn’t want to leave the hospital!”

Way to throw him under the bus. And of course, Younghyun is delighted at that.

(A small part of Jae is a tiny bit happy about the small warm smile on Younghyun’s face. A tiny big bit happy.)

Nonetheless, Jae has a reputation to uphold. “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“What the hell?” Sungjin’s exclamation summarizes Jae thoughts about his own defense perfectly. “Are you five or what?”

While Dowoon tries to hide his laughter in his fist, Wonpil outright laughs at him.

“Missed me much?”

A simple question and yet it floors Jae instantly. The joyful atmosphere changes to a more serious and somber one, much faster than Jae wants it to. He isn’t ready to face the feelings that have been swarming him for days. Correction: He isn’t ready to disclose them to the one person those feelings revolve around. Jae swallows hard in search of what he can say in this situation.

Luckily, Sungjin senses the change in the air and sees right through Jae’s rigid posture.

“We all missed you. It’s great to have you back, Younghyun.”

Sungjin’s hand finds Younghyun’s leg and shakes it in an encouraging gesture.

The moment is broken, and Jae can breathe again. Maybe coming here was a mistake. He should have run away as far as he could when he had the chance to. Now he is here in this room and searches for possible escape routes. At least, he is standing directly by the door.

“And don’t worry about work, hyung,” Dowoon quickly adds to it. “I’ll take care of everything until you feel ready to come back.”

“Now, though,” Wonpil continues like the second half of Dowoon he is. “It’s healing time. The only things you are going to do is sleeping, eating and more sleeping.”

Younghyun, beautiful, pretty Younghyun, throws his head into his neck and laughs heartily. Someone should take a picture and send it immediately to Jae because this is too beautiful to be lost in time and space.

“This is the height of luxury!”

“And maybe if you ask very nicely,” Wonpil starts with a very mischievous glint in his eyes, “Jae can cram in a few cuddle sessions in between.”

“Yah!”

“Can he now?”

Younghyun looks way too smug for a man in his place. Shouldn’t he be grimacing in pain and whining around like a child because of it?

“No, he cannot!” Jae snarls back to Wonpil who smiles innocently at him. Perfect angel his ass!

“You’re such a tsundere, hyung,” Dowoon giggles into his fist, making everyone else in the room chuckle with him.

Wonpil, though, sees this as his chance to tease his elder even more. “Don’t pretend that you didn’t kiss him multiple times.”

“What kisses?”

“No one kissed anyone here,” Jae cries indignantly.

“Liar Liar—” Dowoon and Wonpil chant together to mimic Jae while Sungjin mutters a “I better get out of here before something happens” under his breath. “—Pants on fire!”

“What kisses are you talking about?”

“There were no kisses, Brian!”

“This proves you wrong.”

What betrayal. The utmost betrayal that Jae has experienced in his life ever. This is the cherry on top, the crown of the whole thing, the top of the mountain. Why has god forsaken him?

Denial is good only as long as there is no evidence to prove it wrong, alas, the situation now where Wonpil is holding up his phone for everyone to see the incriminate evidence of Jae pressing his lips against Younghyun’s forehead.

All blood drains from Jae’s face as Younghyun grabs for the phone in disbelief. His brain goes back online early enough though, and Jae flinches forward to get the phone before Younghyun can reach it. Wonpil, who has the time of his day, dodges Jae’s sudden attack with a skilled movement – he simply puts his arm up and uses Younghyun’s bed as a hindrance.

“Younghyun-hyung deserves the truth!”

Dowoon snatches the phone from Wonpil and throws it over to Younghyun. Someone in his condition shouldn’t be able to catch a phone from the air as if it’s a normal rugby game on a Saturday night. At least, Younghyun grimaces in pain.

In his defeated state, Jae glares at the two rascals from his position lying across the bed (and thereby across on Younghyun’s legs). He buries his head into the blanket when he hears interested grunts and Wonpil’s instruction to see more of similar pictures he made.

His life is over now that Younghyun knows the one thing he shouldn’t know. His only option left is to pack his bag and leave the country forever.

Is it so bad that Younghyun knows that Jae kissed him quite a few times during his unconscious state? Theoretically, no. They both are adults who can deal with their feelings and talk about things like… feelings. The reality, though, differs from the theoretic utopia in his head. Jae, by no means, is in any condition to talk about the feelings inside him because he is a coward who doesn’t want to deal with unnecessary thoughts like hope or anything that isn’t the harsh reality. Plus, Younghyun is fully aware of those feelings.

They spent years together, although most of the time not as a couple, but years. They are open books to each other and no matter how hard Jae tries to convince everybody he hates Younghyun with his whole heart, he isn’t kidding anyone. Fact is, Jae has a soft spot for Younghyun, always will have, and for Younghyun the same applies.

No fall-out in this world can remove the connection they have. As much as Jae wants it to, Younghyun will always have a place in his heart and mind.

“Can you send them to me?”

Jae starts to whine at Younghyun’s simple request, especially so when Wonpil follows up on it with a smirk on his lips. Strangely, Jae’s phone starts to vibrate at the same time as Younghyun’s beeps. He’s about to pull it out of his pocket, a difficult task since he is lying on it, but Sungjin disrupts it with his heavy sigh.

“Did you really send those pictures to everyone in the room?”

Wonpil and Dowoon’s loud cackle is answer enough. Maybe if Jae presses his head hard and long enough into the mattress, everything will be over quick enough.

“I hate you, Kim Wonpil, I really hate you,” he mumbles into the bed.

“I love you, too, hyung.”

A chair scratches over the floor and a hand touches Jae on his shoulder blades – Sungjin if he feels it correctly.

“I’m leaving for today. I have a meeting with Jaebeom in a few hours to talk about the details of your deal with Jackson. I’ll take dumb and dumber with me so you guys can talk.”

“Yes, please, do that.”

More chairs are scraping over the floor, steps echo through the room, farewells are being said. Jae ignores everyone and everything around him and concentrates only on the warmth of the legs beneath him; it buys him some time to ignore the elephant in the room.

“Just one thing, Jae.”

Jae turns his head slightly towards Sungjin, probably standing by the door in his old fashioned ‘I drop a few last bombs on you, but you can’t hate me because I will already have left before you realize it’ way.

“The police found the murderer of Jennie Kim. According to their findings, one of the dealers shot her to protect his employer as he was instructed to. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

And then he is gone. Jae is glad about that because then Sungjin doesn’t see how his body tensed up. For Sungjin, the case is settled. For Jae, this means nothing. The one person who actually shouldn’t know about the truth already does so. The police aren’t as much of a threat as the former underground emperor of Seoul.

Silence hushes over the room. The ever-sounding beeping of the heart monitor calms Jae down, as used as he already is to hear it. Minutes pass before he eventually raises his head to look at what Younghyun does.

His heart skips a few beats when he sees the younger watching him. His cheery expression was swapped for a more somber and tired one. Gone the light smile and healthy glint on his face. His skin took on a slight grayish tone and the bags beneath his eyes have worsened over the last minutes.

Younghyun, with a strained smile, pats the empty space next him. “My legs start to hurt from your weight.”

Jae pushes himself up and then positions himself on the bed right next to Younghyun. Their shoulders are touching, their arms and legs pressing against each other. Neither is looking at the other.

The tension rises. Jae swallows and tries to come up with a way to start the conversation. Sungjin is right, they should talk, and there is much that Jae wants to talk about. The only problem is that Jae isn’t sure if he can. Should, want, can, must; on which one should Jae settle on?

“Why should you worry about Jennie Kim?”

Younghyun knows which questions to pose just to get a rise out of Jae. Not a rise in a sense of pissing him off; more of a way to get Jae to reflect on things that happened. Like a mirror. Younghyun had always done this thing where he asked simple question to push Jae to his emotional limit.

This is another thing that falls into the category of misconceptions he had about Brian, his boyfriend. In the past, he thought that was because Younghyun thrives on people’s innermost thoughts and makes music out of it. In reality, Younghyun just learned how to pressure people into admitting their secrets because that’s his job.

Just like Jae does now.

“You heard Sungjin, I don’t have to worry about it anymore. That means, you don’t have to either.”

With time, he has learned how to avoid answering those kinds of questions, and it developed into this push and pull game they like to play.

(Not one of them like this game. Jae hates to be pressured and to get defensive while Younghyun has never been the fan of breaking through other people’s walls, especially not Jae’s since that’s the only thing protecting him from their destructive relationship.)

“Would there be a problem if they didn’t think that the dealer is the killer?”

Jae takes a deep breath and pushes his fingers through his hair while he gnaws on the simple question. Would there be a problem if they find out that he killed Jennie? From a rational perspective, yes, because then Jae can be tried for murder. Sure, they have money and people to get him out of prison before he even sees the police station from inside, but Jae isn’t sure how much Eric Nam likes him by now and if Mark Tuan can be talked into another favor.

Why is Jae even thinking about it? If he was arrested for murder and actually put on trial, then he would plead for bringing him into a prison far away from everything here. Best-case scenario, they deport him back to the states where G-Dragon isn’t able to find him.

“I fucked up big time,” Jae eventually admits with his head between his hands. “I’m in deep shit.”

A hand creeps up in his hair and starts to card through it. A soothing gesture that brings back not so soothing memories. Still, Jae lets Younghyun caress his head.

“What happened? Maybe I can help.”

Jae should tell him. He has to tell him since he is the reason why Younghyun is fucked, too. It’s all his fault.

“Remember when we killed Seunghyun?”

“What about it?”

“I lied. Seunghyun still had contact to Jiyong and Jiyong is one hundred percent mad at us because of it.” The hand stilled on his head. Seconds pass by and Younghyun doesn’t say a word, so Jae does the best he can when he gets nervous: he rambles. “I mean, technically Bigbang doesn’t exist anymore and the members all go their own ways, but G-Dragon still sees them as family and he is very interested in keeping his family alive. Now we not only killed Seunghyun, but also Jennie Kim, who he cared for like a sister. He had sworn to revenge their death because eye for an eye—”

“Jae, stop, breathe.”

The hand from his head travels quickly to his back and starts to stroke him there, small touches between his shoulder blades to get his breathing back to normal.

“What do you mean, you lied?”

Sweet, dear Younghyun, who doesn’t sound mad at all. Only confused.

“What I said. I lied. I was fully aware that it will come back at us one day.”

“You told us all that Jiyong cut ties with him and won’t care if he dies.” Yeah, that’s how you lie, Jae thinks bitterly. “Are you sure he does care about it?”

Jae nods. “He’d told me so.”

Jae leans back and turns his head towards Younghyun to watch the emotions cross his face. Sheer disbelief and confusion are mirrored in his eyes mixed with the loss of words (his mouth stands a bit open, which, honestly, is too cute to not mention it).

“He told you? As in, you met him and he said that he will take revenge on you?”

Jae nods as he slides down in the bed. He crosses his arms to protect himself from the next impact.

“Us. He wants to take revenge on us. Since you, uh, were the one to pull the trigger.”

Younghyun reeled back with a dumbfounded expression. A deep frown is etched on his face, a complete turn from the smiles he is otherwise.

“Why?”

Jae shrugs again. “I told ya, eye for an eye—”

“No, I mean, why did you lie in the first place?”

Oh.

Oh!

Fuck.

That’s something Jae hasn’t planned on telling him. Or anyone. That it was to please Namjoon and that Jae is a traitor and deserves death. Yeah, sure, no, he isn’t telling that to anyone of his members. Not even Younghyun – not because he doesn’t trust him not to run to Sungjin and tell him everything (a small part of him does though), but because he doesn’t want Younghyun to lie for him. It’s for his own best.

So, Jae says instead, “I wanted to impress Sungjin because he was a pain in the neck. You know-- that whole thing of me not wanting to hurt people physically.”

“But that’s not a reason to put you and Wonpil at risk. Or anyone for that matter. There are other ways to prove Sungjin that you have what it takes to be a mobster.”

Jae lets out a bitter laugh. “Too late for that. No one will be doubting me anymore for sure.”

A sharp inhale next to him. A hand trying to pry off the crossed arms over his chest.

“What happened?”

He lets the hand pry his arm apart and takes Younghyun’s hand into his own, turning to the other with a bitter smile. Now, it’s Jae who looks so tired of everything instead of Younghyun. Beautiful Younghyun who already knows what happened with his dark eyes looking so brokenly at him.

“What else should I have done?” Jae asks desperately. “She would have killed you no matter what. I had to stop her and the only way to do so was to—was to—”

“Hey now.”

Younghyun’s other hand cradles Jae’s neck and pulls him towards his own where Jae buries his face into, breathing in that faint smell of Younghyun. He isn’t crying, he had long stopped crying about his wrongdoings. The feeling that fills his stomach and squeezes it is nothing else than shame. He feels so ashamed of having fallen down so low in front of the one person he always accuses of dragging him into hell.

Younghyun had always warned and pleaded with him to never steep as low as their kind. Jae only reacted to that in being annoyed because it was his decision to join – something he regretted rather quickly. Younghyun’s words always ring a truth in him, a last moral that has embedded itself deeply into his mind.

“It’s o—”

“Don’t say it’s okay because we both know that it isn’t. It never will be. But life goes on and I have to live with that, so let’s never talk about it again.”

He feels more Younghyun’s nod than he hears the faint ‘okay’ over his head. A light kiss is being pressed against the crown of his head, a small gesture that makes Jae’s heart race against his chest.

“Where did you meet G-Dragon?”

Back to the questions again. Jae is tired. So, so tired.

“I went to her funeral.”

Just let Younghyun make assumptions as to why he went there. It doesn’t matter. Jae is in the best place of the world-- Younghyun’s arms, his face pressed against the other’s neck, so warm and secure. He could fall asleep like that.

“Jae?” When Jae hums as a sign that he is listening, Younghyun asks, “Why did you save me?”

Jae leans back in Younghyun’s arms as much as he can. Their eyes meet instantly, something clicks. It always clicks looking into his eyes. It makes him bold.

“Jennie had threatened me before that she is going to kill you if I don’t give her the club back. I didn’t, so it’s my fault she attacked the casino.”

“Why did you save me?” Younghyun repeats again when Jae hasn’t answered his question.

Pushing. Younghyun is pushing because he wants to find something in Jae. Jae doesn’t know what, doesn’t want to think about what it is since his mind is already set on what he wants to do. In one swift and small movement, with his heart beating in his throat and fingers trembling where they have grabbed Younghyun’s own, he leans forward for a fleeting moment, abrupt as if it doesn’t happen, before he goes for Youngyun’s neck again and hides his furiously blushing face.

He presses his eyes together to ignore the warm feeling bursting through his chest like the small light flittering through the darkness of the ocean, filling black and gray with small specks of colors.

“Sleep,” he tells Younghyun with a breathy voice, then feels how the tension leaves the younger’s body instantly. Arms sneak around his mid and press him tightly against the other’s body, another light press of lips against his skin, only this time against his forehead.

His lips are still tingling for the time he lies awake next to a sleeping Younghyun.

~~~

Everything is unusual in a usual way. It’s not unusual for him to wake up feeling hot all over his body because someone else is attached to his back. It’s not unusual for it to be still dark outside when he wakes up, even though it’s already summer. It’s not unusual that his heart is racing at a worryingly speed because of the dream that is still lingering on his mind.

Those things are, like said, how they have always been. Today, though, they are a bit different than on other days. The person attached to his back isn’t all lean and gangly but broader and distinctly wider. It’s still in the middle of the night for it to be that dark, but Jae naturally wakes up just before sunrise, whereas now the sun has just set on the horizon. Last but not least, his heart isn’t racing because of the nightmares haunting him in his sleep but rather because of the warmth the person radiates from behind Jae. He doesn’t mean the body heat of another person, Jae is more thinking about the warmth that nests itself inside of his chest and belly right down to his toes.

He pushes his head further into the pillow in hopes of falling back asleep, at the same time he carves the serene situation into his memory.

Breath meets the sensitive skin on Jae’s neck and his skin erupts into goosebumps. An electric spark travels through his body, lighting up all of his bones and muscles. Sleep, as for now, isn’t an option anymore. His mind is fully awake by the fact that the other’s face is fully buried into his neck, the breath tickling him again and again.

Jae wishes he could pry himself off the bed, but then the thought is thrown away as fast as it has come. He hasn’t gotten a peaceful night since long ago, with no dreams nor panic attacks, so what does he want more?

It may be bad that he is caught in between Younghyun’s arms with said person attaching himself to Jae’s back when all Jae wants—

Well, what does he want?

At this point, Jae is annoyed with himself enough as it is. That whole hot and cold on both ends – more on Jae’s than Younghyun’s, that he does have to admit – is confusing and hurting and doesn’t help anyone.

Jae has this whole grand plan that has already been set in motion for quite some time now, though only now he considers if he should tell Younghyun everything. There is a tiny teensy bit of hope buried deep in the darkness inside him that maybe Younghyun will take part in this. That he would give up everything for Jae and become a traitor like he is.

If it weren't for the problem with the little hopes that Jae harbors. Younghyun has the tendency to rise them all up into the stars and make it seem like everything will become true, when in reality he crushes each one of them without a blink.

Jae is a coward, and this is a risk he doesn’t want to take. Younghyun, after all, is a big unknown factor in his grand scheme that doesn’t fit any definition. Each person is like a chess piece, predictable in a way, easy for Jae to manipulate. Not Younghyun. Where sometimes he seems to be the king that Jae wants to protect at all costs, he also plays the role of the perfect queen and protects Jae instead.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

Jae startles when Younghyun suddenly mumbles with his dark sleepy voice into his neck and then proceeds to bury his face further into it while his arms pull Jae tighter against his body.

This is bad, this is very bad for Jae’s health. His heart is threatening to jump out of his chest while his lung capacity is constrained thanks to the arms around his middle.

“Stop thinking, hyung,” Younghyun whines again, his lips rubbing at his skin. Jae tries very hard not to react at this with another eruption of his goosebumps, to no avail.

Jae stutters since his mind went offline a few seconds ago. “I—I’m not—”

“You are.” And suddenly, Younghyun sounds more awake than a few seconds ago. “Your body tenses when you think too much.” He then proceeds to knock Jae out with a small kiss against his nape. “Just forget everything and enjoy this. It’s been a long time…”

Jae is enjoying this, whatever this is. Their cuddling session that surely takes place in another dimension.

Ugh.

Why is Jae like that? Why can’t he leave his resentment for Brian behind for a few seconds and then turn around to gift Younghyun a full-on make-out session because this man deserves to get the lights kissed out of him as if they are twenty again. Instead, Jae feels like a sixteen-year-old who was hurt by his ex and is now too salty thanks to the developed trust issues.

“Yah,” Younghyun cries in small fonts – it is still in the middle of the night – after which he wrestles Jae to lie on his back with Younghyun draped all over him. “I told ya, stop thinking too much. You can do that in the morning.”

After being stunned for a few seconds, Jae chuckles at how cute Younghyun looks with a pout on his lips while carefully putting his head against Jae chest. Jae shuffles around carefully as not to hurt Younghyun’s bad side and puts his arms around the figure on him, one hand around his waist, the other buried into black hair.

Younghyun’s head lies on his left side so he must hear the fond beating of his heart. Well, Jae can’t help it (there should be a specific training to control your heart rate).

“This isn’t too bad, is it?”

No, it isn’t. This isn’t bad at all. This is more than perfect. Domestic and healing in a way, resting peacefully and cradling someone dear to you in your arms. He wouldn’t trade this for all the money in this world.

A painful reminder of what had been and could be.

“Jae?” Younghyun pipes up when Jae hasn’t said anything for minutes (really, it was only seconds).

“Sorry, I was just—”

“Thinking?” Younghyun smiles up at him, adoringly cute. “I know. What are thinking about?”

What is Jae thinking about? How this feels like a different dimension? How he thought he will never find something like this again because cuddling with Wonpil isn’t the same? That maybe forgiving Brian wouldn’t be so bad?

That maybe admitting that Jae has never fallen out of love is an actual option he can consider.

Jae decides. “You,” he says boldly with a smirk on his face.

Younghyun snorts into his chest. “Sure? Not how many ways to murder me you can come up with?”

“No,” Jae shakes his head to collect all the courage in this world. “I thought about how pretty you are. And last I counted, it’s thirty-six different ways.”

“Does it help that I’m pretty?”

“So, I kill you all the more?”

They both snicker. Younghyun’s laugh is like music in his ears. A perfect pitch to calm the waves that his beauty is causing.

“But jokes aside, you _are_ beautiful.” Jae lays a hand against Younghyun’s face, tips him back to let their eyes meet fully. “Hardly a day goes by without me thinking about how beautiful you are.”

Youngyun’s eyes are shaking, searching for something in Jae’s face. His grin fades into a dimmed and unsure smile, a hesitant chuckle leaving his mouth.

“Who are you and what have you done with the Jae—with Jae?”

His heart misses a beat. His own playful grin falls off his face. His thump swipes over Younghyun’s cheekbone. A dangerous thought enters his mind.

“Which Jae?”

What if—No, he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Well, you. Shouldn’t you be all tsundere and push me away instead of doing—this?”

What if Younghyun—No, it can’t be, can it?

“This doesn’t feel like usual.”

What if Younghyun misses the old Jae, too?

“Because this isn’t like usual. What happened to you while I was asleep?”

What if Younghyun misses all the could-bes just like Jae does?

“I nearly lost you.”

Does this mean that they want the same thing in the end?

“But—just before when all the others were here…” Jae squeezes Younghyun harder when he sees how distressed he looks at him. As if something threatens to break him. Jae doesn’t like this at all because this isn’t like Younghyun. Younghyun is like a bastion in the calm, unwavering and indestructible. Now, he looks more vulnerable than ever.

“Does this mean you will hate me again once the moment has passed?”

“I don’t hate you,” Jae quickly corrects Younghyun’s assumption with a quick pull of Younghyun’s face closer to his. “I never hated you. Resented you, yes, but never hated.”

“Please don’t do that—” Younghyun’s thumb swipes over Jae’s lips. “--when you can’t promise me that you’ll stop being all cold with me.”

Jae brings the other nearer, his lips touching skin, pressing softly against it. It’s warm and exactly like he remembers it, just like all the other times he did it over the last few days. His lips linger against Younghyun’s forehead, taking in the silent of their own world, the only thing left the soft beating of their hearts.

After the moment passes, whether it be seconds or minutes, Jae pulls back, only to lie his head onto the other’s and inhaling the scent of his hair.

A melody comes to his mind, the soft sound of a piano ringing through his mind, a serene voice singing along to the keys. Jae starts to hum the melody, feels his throat vibrating against Younghyun’s temple, cards his hand through the black locks of the younger.

He can’t remember where he had heard it before, only a feeling of the moment left in his mind. His heart moved by the sincerity of the voice and the lyrics, as if he found a completely different side to someone he knew.

Ah.

Maybe he does remember it.

“ _Just like I was loved as I am, I will hug all of you just as you are. I will accept you; I will try my best_.”

~~~

Jae is holding a cup of coffee and one bottle of water in his hands on his way back to Younghyun’s room after a slow venture to the vending machine in the hallway. The canteen isn’t open anymore since the clock has struck two in the morning. Jae needed a fresh breath of air and distance to the scene in the hospital room.

The floodgate to the darkness in his mind has been open after he awoke from the slumber in Younghyun’s arm, and the opportunity to hold the younger in his arms then felt too good to pass on. It felt like healing, their intimate moment, a cut from the harsh reality playing outside of that room.

Which speaking of—

A hooded figure is staring at the closed door that opens to Younghyun’s room. Jae moves on instinct. The coffee and water bottle fall to the ground, the hot beverage sloshing all over the floor, the bottle banging hard. The figure startles at the sudden noise and looks scared to Jae and – oh.

Sammy stares directly into the barrel of the gun that Jae is pointing at him, neither of them moving for a long time.

When Jae realizes that it is only Sammy in front of him – a problem he has to deal with in a few minutes, not now while his heart is coming down from a mixture of panic and fear— he puts the weapon back to its place against his back, then crouches down to get the bottle from the floor. Bummer about the spilled coffee, but, well, you don’t cry over spilled… coffee.

“Jae?”

Sammy sounds hesitant and scared. Who wouldn’t if someone was pointing a gun at you?

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

Which brings the question: What is Sammy doing here?

“I wanted to see you again.” Sammy takes a step forward to Jae, his posture open and without defense. “We didn’t leave on good terms and I…” He trails off and shrugs.

Jae looks at the door. Has Younghyun fallen asleep again?

“I told you to not look for me again. I don’t exist in your world anymore.”

Sammy vigorously shakes his head. “That’s not true. Seeing you again… I still can’t believe that you’re alive. You’ve changed, yes, but that doesn’t change anything we had.”

“Sammy…” Jae swallows, glancing around the hallway. No one’s here. Thank god. “Look, Sammy, us talking right now? Some dumb shit. You are a famous singer and I am in a mob.” Sammy winces at Jae’s cold tone. “Our worlds collide hard and if people get wind of that, one of us has to pay for it. Spoiler alert: It will be you paying with your life.”

“No one’s here, I paid security to look out for me.”

Jae sighs heavily. “Then I hope you paid them enough.”

“Look,” Sammy tries again with some desperation in his voice. “I’m just here to get closure. Real closure.”

“And you thought you’re going to find it by paying Younghyun a visit?”

The other shakes his head. “You told me Brian’s here and that was the only clue I had as to where I can find you.”

This is foolish. Sammy did everything to bring himself in danger. Jae needs to contact Sungjin and ask for some favors, he needs to clean up behind Sammy, otherwise something bad is going to happen.

Even if Jae cherishes the sentiment behind Sammy’s reasons, hell, even understands the urging need to find answers to the many questions Sammy probably has, the risk is just too damn high for Jae. Sammy isn’t just another casualty. Sammy is his friend.

“Sammy, stop looking for me.”

“Please, just one talk.” He looks at Jae with wide, pleading eyes. “One talk and then I’m gone. Forever. I will never contact you again. I swear.”

One talk… One talk could be one talk too much. Every minute here counts. Sammy is stubborn. Jae knows he won’t leave before he got his talk, even though Jae obviously doesn’t want to. He has to think of something—

Footsteps echo through the hallway, coming nearer and before Jae registers it, his body moves on instinct again. He grabs Sammy’s hoody and pushes him into the next best room, closing the door behind them too loud. They wince at the bang and Jae sees in his periphery how Younghyun jumps awake in his bed. The beeping of the heartrate monitor goes faster for a moment.

“Jae?”

Jae lets go of Sammy who stands frozen on the spot, his eyes trained on Younghyun’s form in the darkness. Younghyun looks confused at him, the room too dark for him to make out the hooded figure Jae had brought in.

With a heavy sigh, Jae walks over to the bed and sits down, facing Sammy, his backside pressing against Younghyun’s leg.

He hears his old roommate inhaling a sharp breath before he stumbles over his words. “Long—Long time no see, Brian.”

Younghyun’s hand finds his in an instant, squeezing him while his body tenses, the confusion deeply set on his face. This is kind of ridiculous.

“You don’t have to hide over there,” Jae chides Sammy and nods for him to come over. “If you aren’t scared of me, then you don’t have to be scared of Brian.”

Sammy’s eyes flicker between Jae and Younghyun while he bites on his lip in contemplation.

Jae heaves a sigh. “I’m the second highest guy in our mob. Younghyun’s under my wing, he won’t do anything to you.”

Sammy barks a disbelieving laugh instead. “This—you—I can’t get this into my head. The Jae I know is just some nerd who plays his guitar until the early morning and watches meme videos on YouTube.”

“He still does that.”

“No one asked you.” Jae nudges Younghyun gently (because he is sitting on his bad side and is horrendously afraid of hurting the other).

“What I mean,” Sammy continues, ignoring the light banter between them, “I just want to know what happened to you? What made you—so—Why?”

_What made you?_

“Is that Sammy?” Younghyun eventually catches on. Jae doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t want to see the disappointing expression. To his defense, Jae hasn’t looked for Sammy, Sammy had acted on his own and found Jae instead.

Jae doesn’t have the time for that.

“Look, Sammy—” Jae knows he has to give Sammy something. He can respect his wish to get some closure and maybe it can help Jae himself to find some closure of his own. “Long story short—I’ve done some shit because I was dumb—” And blind of love “—and had only two options left which were either to run away for the rest of my life or become one of the bad guys and survive here. I don’t do that because I enjoy this lifestyle, I would be long dead otherwise. I’m only surviving here, Sammy.”

“Then why don’t you—Come back? With me? I—I can get you another identity or hire some security. I don’t know shit, but I will find something I can do. Or someone-- someone else will be able to help you.”

Younghyun’s hand clamps hard around his and Jae is dying to know why. Is the thought of Jae leaving paining him? Or is it pity because they both, Jae and Younghyun, know that escaping their world is doomed to failure?

“Sammy—”

“You’re naïve to think that money can buy anything Jae wants or needs.” Younghyun sounds cold and his voice slices through thick tension, harsh and unforgiving. “You think that if there had been any possibility of returning to his old life, Jae wouldn’t have already taken it?” Underneath it lies a sense of hurt and grief. “Keep your nose out of things that you have no idea of.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sammy barks instantly back. “You keep your nose out of things that _you_ have no idea of. At least I am trying to help Jae unlike someone whose fault it is that he’s in this shit in the first place!”

“Tell me something I don’t already now! And Jae doesn’t need your help or your money. He has us all!”

“Guys, please!”

“I knew you were bad news ever since I’ve seen you for the first time—”

“Now you’re making things up.”

“Guys!”

“—You should be lying dead in that casino, that’s what you deserve, you piece—!”

Sammy is thinner than Jae remembers him to be. He feels lighter on his feet, easier to drag him over the floor when Jae grabs him at his hoodie to fletch his teeth in front of his face.

“No one, not a single person in this world, deserves to be dead.”

His eyes are challenging Sammy’s, ignoring the obvious fear in them. Sammy is afraid of him, of the person Jae has become. He is not alone with that feeling.

Jae is afraid of himself, too.

“You were my friend and I was yours until that guy came into our lives,” Sammy whispers brokenly. “I lost a good friend on that day. I really wish I wouldn’t have dragged you into that bar that night.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

But because of so many other reasons than Sammy is. Jae has many regrets in his life. So many of them.

“You should go, Sammy. We’re done here.”

Sammy shakes his head stubbornly. “No, we’re not done here. I can’t leave you here.”

Jae lets slowly go of the hoodie, his hands still resting on Sammy’s shoulders. “I belong to this world, Sammy. I have blood on my hands. I can’t go back and be the Jae you know anymore.” His hands slip off of Sammy’s shoulders as his head dips down, unable to look him into the eyes anymore. “That Jae died on that night you came to get him. I’m sorry.”

“This—This is not—” Sammy sounds so broken. Teary. Are there tears in his eyes? Jae can’t bring himself to look up. “We will see each other again, I promise you, Jae.”

What beautiful last words that fill Jae with so much dread.

The door falls close behind Sammy, leaving Jae and Younghyun behind in a dark and silent room, a beeping heart monitor and rain falling lightly outside as their companions. Minutes pass before Younghyun eventually speaks up.

“I’m sorry.”

Jae slowly turns around. Younghyun looks so tired and broken, different than Sammy, but filled with as much regret. A sad smile adorns his face, a smile that Jae wishes to wipe off with little kisses. Why is he still so beautiful when he looks so broken?

“What for?”

One step to another and suddenly, Jae lies next to Younghyun, both facing each other and touching everywhere on the small bed. Their hands intertwine as do their legs. It’s warm.

“That we met in the bar that night. That I came up to you and offered you a drink. That I fell in love with you.”

Is there any greater pain than hearing those words? He doesn’t know. Jae feels so detached from everything, numb to more pain and heartbreak.

“I don’t.”

“Huh?”

Jae boldly looks up into Younghyun’s eyes. “I don’t regret it.” He’s made up his mind. “Meeting you—” Long ago Jae had made up his mind. From the beginning on, there has only been one option for him.

“—I don’t regret it. I’m glad that we’ve met.”

~~~

Middle of August approaches fast. A black car drives along the street, turning left to the industrial sector at the outskirt of the city and following the street until it reaches the huge warehouse at the end. The door opens, sun shining down blindingly, the man appearing from the car putting on his dark glasses.

Chan waits at the door of the warehouse with his hands held behind, Jisung directly next to him with his head held high, both of their eyes fixed on Jae who straightens his thin shirt. Behind him, the car door from the other side clanks as it opens up and another figure gets off the car. As soon as the other person reaches Jae, a bright smile forms on Chan’s mouth.

“Good to see you both in perfect health,” he greets them both with a slight bow, Jisung mimicking him.

“I wouldn’t say in perfect health with a hole in my body,” Younghyun pats against his shoulder with a slight smirk on his face.

Jisung beams at him and follows suit. “Same, same.”

“Join a club for being shot at or something,” Jae mumbles under his breath, then turns with a tight smile to Chan. “How’s business?”

It only takes them a few strides to get inside the warehouse where people are working around the premises, stashing pallets and sorting through them. Business, as it seems (and as Chan says), is slow but growing steadily.

“We have to thank Jackson for gifting us a bit of his stash before we got a new supply. The new stash is clean and of good quality.” They have long reached the other end of the warehouse where Chan has his desk in a glass room. There he takes out a small paper bag and gives it to Jae. “I’ve put in your usual and some of the cocaine from the Cassiopeia.”

“Your usual?” Younghyun pipes in, getting ignores as Jae asks confused,

“You have EXO’s cocaine?”

Chan nods. “Sungjin brought it to me. He told me to test the cocaine so that he can finalize the deal with EXO. This cocaine is what is left from our test. You can use it without a thought.”

Jae looks into the bag. Mostly, there are a few bags of weed and a few sedatives for when Jae experiences night terrors—an occurrence that rises in numbers since he shot Jennie, luckily not happening when Younghyun has been with him. The cocaine is neatly packed into the corner of the bag.

“Do you really want to take that?”

Jae looks up to Younghyun and shrugs. “Imma give it to Wonpil. I only take it with him anyway, so…”

Ever since their night in the hospital, something has changed. Not only between Younghyun and Jae (look at them, Younghyun accompanies Jae even though he was just released from the hospital, and they haven’t even nagged at each other once at that day. Sungjin should be proud of them), but also between Jae and Wonpil.

For all the time that Jae has known Wonpil, the younger always had his back. No matter about what, Wonpil is his biggest supporter – even when it comes to romance and relationship advices. The hitman jokingly dubbed himself as the Jaehyungparkian (best name ever, doesn’t matter what Younghyun thinks about it. Jae had spent three days thinking about it) shipper number one and always rooted for Younghyun to make a move on Jae.

Which was quite awkward for Jae because Jae had been trying to get over Younghyun – with Wonpil.

Now, though, Jae has stopped seeking warmth and love (and sexual satisfaction) from the hitman and instead went over to cuddle Younghyun during the nights. He knows he does that more because he can’t close an eye in the night when Younghyun isn’t safe and within his proximity in case he has to protect him than because of the feelings he avoids thinking about.

That means his wet nights with Wonpil and the white powder in their noses are a part of the past.

(Plus, Jae suspects that Wonpil is more interested in doing it with a certain maknae. Something he needs to grill Wonpil about again anytime soon.)

“Another two delivery boys vanished, by the way.”

Their heads whip instantly towards Chan who grimaces apologetically at them.

“Two of our bests, unfortunately,” Jisung shrugs before he adds. “The first one disappeared last week during his shift and the other one just last night, also during his shift. Nothing unusual has been found, and the streets haven’t heard anything.”

Jae’s face hardens at the frustration within him. “How many in total?”

“About twenty-three now, I guess…”

Twenty-three of his delivery boys disappeared without a trace over the course of two months. That’s a loss of more boys than he is able to recruit new ones from the street. This is more than worrying. Johnny needs to speed the fuck up and find out what is going on here.

On a different note, Jae sees someone loitering around in his periphery. Someone who maybe can help him with this problem. Beomgyu does a bad job at hiding that he is listening in and if he is that obvious all the time, Jae has a different kind of problem.

“What about our prisoner here?” Jae nods his head towards Beomgyu, who then swiftly turns around and pretends to check out a package.

“He doesn’t do much here. He doesn’t help, he doesn’t talk to people, sometimes I even forget that he is here.”

Maybe he isn’t too bad if people don’t notice him in the first place.

“Who’s that?”

Jae, just like Chan, shrugs at Younghyun’s question. “Just a puppy who got lost in here,” he says absentmindedly. “Give me a sec.”

Beomgyu seemingly knows how to read the mood in the air and walks behind a crate to hide from prying eyes. He wears a sour look on his face once Jae stops in front of him. His hands are pushed into his pockets, one hand grasping around something. The phone Jae had given him probably.

“Talk.”

Beomgyu swallows audibly and his eyes look behind Jae before his mouth curls into a sneer. “Your people are full of shit.”

“Well, you’re here to spy on them, not befriend them,” Jae shoots back.

Beomgyu meets his indifferent face with an annoyed of his own. “They tell you the truth but not the whole.”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys _did_ disappear during their shifts in the night. But disappear is the wrong word for that.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows rise up in a question. Jae doesn’t get it.

“And what else would you call that?”

“Look,” Beomgyu huffs irritatingly while he takes out his phone, opens the gallery and shows Jae a picture of a young boy putting drugs into his bag. “I made pictures of everyone going in and out of this warehouse.”

“And? Someone interesting in there?” Jae swipes through the pictures.

“I sent the pictures of the delivery boys to Jeongguk-hyung and he followed them.” That’s… a pretty good idea. “And hyung told me they didn’t vanish. They took a bus from the Seoul central station and then went far away from here. Alas, they didn’t get kidnapped, they left voluntary.”

Jae’s head shoots up at that information.

The delivery boys did what? This can’t be. He was told that they vanish. Chan has assured him again and again that he couldn’t find anything. Hell, even Johnny hasn’t been able to. But here is Beomgyu, sending Jeongguk off to follow the boys and finding out that crucial piece of information?

Something is incredibly wrong here.

_It’s an inside job._

Wonpil’s words crash back into his mind like a bucket of cold water. This can’t be, can it?

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jae mutters under his breath. “One of them died and appeared again.”

There are so many new questions as old ones haven’t been answered in any way before. What should he do now? This information is valuable, crucial, but at the same time it brings so many flaws into everything.

Can he trust Beomgyu to tell him the truth?

Can he trust Namjoon?

This all could be one big lie. Jae is working with Namjoon, yes, but still, the king had sent him an organ-less dead boy as a threat to not fuck this thing up. Maybe he wants to unsettle Jae’s nerves.

“Remember what you told me when we first met?”

Jae looks at Beomgyu again, seeing a certain glint in the boy’s eyes. Jae shakes his head, he had said many things to the boy back then. Beomgyu is about to disabuse him.

“Loyalty is an honorable trait that means nothing here. Someone’s going to betray you sooner or later, no matter if friend or foe.”

~~~

“Jae!”

Jae throws the car door close, then settles into the leather, his chest tight and uneasy. He just wants to leave this place. Beomgyu’s words shake him down to the core. Jae’s own words sound so bitter to him now.

The worst of it?

The way his thoughts spiral down a certain path.

“Jae.”

The door from the other side closes with a bang. Jae is still lost in his thoughts.

Trust and betrayal, a simple concept of loyalty. Loyalty brings a certain security by trusting each other, dampening the fear of being betrayed. The metaphorical knife from behind, stuck in his back, put in there by the one trusted the most. Once the trust has been shattered by betrayal, it’s hard to gain it again.

Jae knows how it works.

He himself was on both sides at one point. Looked up to a person, eyes full of loyalty and trust, only to end up staring into the rain with the city looking down on him. Now, Jae looks down at the city, beneath him a path full of blood and betrayal. If Sungjin only knew half the things he does, Jae would be a dead man walking.

“Hyung.”

This situation is a web full of lies and uncertainties. Where does his trust lie? His men are loyal to him, friends he dares say, they would never go behind his back and get people out of his business. Maybe there is a reason for them doing that. Maybe they don’t know what is happening. Maybe Jeongguk is lying because Jae is holding his precious underling hostage. There are so many possibilities and it hurts his head.

“Jaehyung!”

The hand on his knee startles him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see Younghyun’s worried frown etched into his face.

“Is everything alright?” Younghyun’s voice is tight. “What were you talking about with that boy?”

Jae looks out of the window instead of Younghyun’s face, watching the streets passing by in hues of gray. The sky clouds up and Jae remembers the weather report of the morning. A mild summer storm is coming up, will drench the city in rain, thunder rumbling, lighting striking.

“Was it easy for you?” Jae turns his head after seconds of silence, seeing the confusion written on Younghyun’s face. “Leave me bleeding on the streets of L.A.? Leave me dying on the streets of Seoul?”

For the first time, Jae finally asks the questions that are burning on his tongue for a long time. He knows the answers, he hopes he knows the answers. Hopes that it feels the same as it does for Jae. Like darkness that eats him away during the night, tiring him out to the bones, making him question everything he lives for.

But he also hopes Younghyun feels different than him. Hopes that Younghyun, contrary to Jae, feels regret for the things he had done and wishes to make them undone.

There is that intense stare again. Jae has missed it. Now though, he wishes Younghyun doesn’t have it. It makes him vulnerable, as if Younghyun is seeing things Jae wants to hide from everyone. A gaze that knows everything but at the same time searches for so much more.

Younghyun heaves a heavy sigh. “Jae—”

“Forget it.” Jae turns away, his heart heavy in his chest. Fear has him in its firm grip, squeezing his body hard. It’s a gamble, posing questions whose answers he already knows or wants to hear. His heart would break if Younghyun didn’t say the exact words Jae has in mind. His fragile world is already tilted on its axis, threatening to shatter like broken glass.

“When will you let me explain everything?”

Younghyun sounds tired. His head lies in his neck, eyes closed, and a deep frown set on his mouth. A man tired of the world, of the past haunting him like a cursed ghost. Jae knows those kinds of ghosts too good. Knows the tiredness of drowning in the black and cold ocean, losing every hope of ever seeing light again.

“I’m—” His heart beats in his throat. His stomach swoops. His tongue swiftly licks over his lips, his eyes blinking hard. “I’m not ready. Not yet.”

A car honk from afar. White noise filters through his ears. The car reaches the busy part of the city again. Faceless people, tinted windows, soft rain descending from heaven. It drowns out the silence, thick and tense lying heavily on their shoulders.

Beomgyu set him on edge and now Jae holds himself with one hand on it, trying hard not to fall down the spiral of thoughts, all paths leading into darkness.

“I’ll wait for you then.”

Suddenly, Younghyun looks at him again. Not smiling. Not intense. Only an acceptance drawn into the lines of his face, looking like a man who has made peace with the situation. And maybe Younghyun has already done so a long time ago.

“You shouldn’t,” Jae whispers towards his lap, his fingers fiddling with a loose thread of his thin shirt. “It’s a waste of time.”

“It isn’t.”

Slowly, he turns his head enough to watch Younghyun from the side. He looks the same, only this time, something else gleams in his eyes. “Why not?”

A hand takes his, soft and light, a thumb caressing over the back.

“Because it’s you. One day, you’ll come back to me.” A small smile. “And until then, I’ll wait.”

His hand is warm and soft, and it fits perfectly into his own. As if fate has made Kang Younghyun fitting perfectly against him. It’s unfair. Unfair for Jae to feel insecure about their whole thing, unfair to Younghyun because Jae can’t put his full trust into him.

Trust is shattered by betrayal and nothing can be put together perfectly again.

Just when he wants to answer Younghyun, his phone beeps with the income of a new message. He takes his hand out of Younghyun’s, frowning at the unknown sender.

“That’s an address.”

Another beep – this time from Younghyun’s phone. The younger shows it to him. It’s the same message. Jae knocks against the drivers front and gives him the new address.

It sounds familiar to him. And when he looks it up, all blood drains from his face.

“What is it?”

Younghyun’s deep voice sounds distorted, damped from his own furious thoughts.

“You remember the abandoned church? The one we visited all the time years ago?”

Because that’s where the address is leading them to. The abandoned church near the police department.

Numbness. Jae seeks numbness to overwhelm that awful feeling swirling in his gut. He feels like throwing up. This message is a bad omen, something is about to go all wrong. Numbness can make the pain in his heart go away. It’s better than the panic threatening to cut off his air.

Breathe in. And out. And in. Out again. Rinse. Repeat.

The church’s door stands widely open with Dowoon lingering in it. His head perks up at the arrival of Jae and Younghyun. He swallows and licks his lips. Dowoon is nervous. Something itches beneath Jae’s skin.

“Hyung!” Dowoon hurries towards them and helps Younghyun out of the car. “You got the message too?”

Younghyun nods with a grunt. “Who else is here?”

“Only Wonpil and Sungjin.”

His feet are rooted to the ground. Days have passed since he had been here the last time. The night he shot Jennie. The night he nearly lost Younghyun. Now he is back because some unknown person messaged them the address.

This isn’t a good sign.

Step for step he follows Dowoon and Younghyun. Slowly, as if in slow motion. The world slows down, just to make it more painful for him?

“In there is a message written in blood, but we don’t understand it,” Dowoon explains it further. “We don’t know to whom or what the sentence refers to.”

A person. A message. Written in blood?

The church isn’t afar from the street and yet they still haven’t reached inside.

Thump thump.

His heartbeat goes crazy. His hands are wet. Sweat collects at his nape, staining his light shirt dark.

The church is as beautiful as ever, yet everything is dimmed with the soft downfall of rain swatting against the leaking roof. The colorful tinted windows are dimmed, the only light coming from inside. Candles form a path towards the altar, shining bright and eerily.

And here he is. Standing at the entrance of the church. Looking at the installation by the altar.

What is this feeling?

Losing the ground under your feet? The world halting from slow motion to full stop?

It’s silent to his ears. White noise only. And even that Jae can’t really hear. His mind is visually overwhelmed, shutting down completely. Everything shuts down completely.

His eyes are glued to the front, his lips quivering. Is he breathing? Is his heart pounding?

“No.”

Is this numbness? Or so much pain that he can’t work through it at all?

“No.”

His arm reaches out as his feet take a step and again. And again.

This is bad. This is so much worse than back then in the hospital. This isn’t his heart beating in panic. This isn’t his breathing being cut off. This is sheer terror.

“Please, don’t—”

He starts running. As if all hell broke loose, he starts running towards the altar. The once beautiful altar is now drenched in blood, white lilies stained red. So much red it appears black, flowing down to the floor. Candles light up the place, throwing shadows on the wall. Still, a face so beautiful. All color left his skin, hair perfectly arranged, a shirt once white now stained red.

A breathtaking corpse that hangs off the wall with hands nailed into it, an eikon of god’s son on the cross. Tasteless, horrible. The hard reality crashes into Jae when his eyes find the words on the wall, written in blood that oozes from the corpse’s throat.

“Get him down!”

His panicked scream tears through the church as do his steps. Sungjin, who suddenly appears in front of him, tries to hold him back, but Jae pushes further, shoves him away, it doesn’t matter because—

“Get him down!”

He cries again as he reaches the altar, slipping on the blood and falling down. His face is half covered in blood, in _his_ blood, where tears mingle with it. Someone else helps him up and tries again to get him away but Jae still pushes forward. His hand finally reaches the corpse, clutching at the limbs and try to get him off.

“Please,” he whimpers desperately. His vision is blurred from the tears slipping out of his eyes.

This is it.

In all his years as a mobster, never ever has something like this happened before. He was innocent. Someone watching Jae from the sidelines, long forgotten, only to be swept up by the mess he caused.

Jae had warned him. Told him with so many words to never come back again.

Here he is.

“Please.” His throat is scratchy and hoarse.

That’s it. This is where Jae’s mind gives up completely. His body goes lifeless, falling into the embrace of the other person, staring blankly ahead.

Only white noise.

“It’s okay, Jae, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

Younghyun. Younghyun holds him in his arms, rocking him back and forth, mumbling the words again and again in a broken voice.

“Hyung?” Wonpil tries to pry off Jae from Younghyun, who has his own meltdown, still muttering apology for apology into Jae’s hands. Jae lets him. Falls back into Wonpil’s arms, crying silent tears.

“Isn’t this…” Dowoon trails off and looks from his phone to the figure hanging on the wall.

Sungjin stares helplessly at the three on the floor.

“He’s my friend,” Jae whispers. “He was my friend.”

Another sob escapes his throat. Loudly. Painfully.

“He was my friend.”

There on the wall, beautiful and innocent, with open eyes lifeless and no glimmer, hangs his old friend and roommate, once so full of dreams and life, now tainted by the darkness ever since he has met Jae again.

“Sammy was my friend.”

And written above him, a simple message, only for Jae to know its meaning.

_This is my tooth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. *quietly leaving tissues*
> 
> Next week - Interlude pt. 2: Please take me away to the place where you are


	10. Interlude pt. 2: Please take me away to the place where you are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Day6 - Rescue Me
> 
> A lotta Jaehyungparkian about to come!

The city was bleak. The buildings reached high up into the sky, vanishing behind the clouds, the sun only peeking through the gaps in between. It was sometime between fall and winter, too warm for snow, too cold for the usual chill. People were dressed in thick jackets, padded and black and gray. The clouds looked threatening and umbrellas were tucked under the arms, everyone anticipating the heavy downfall.

The whole ride from the airport to here, Jae’s face had been stuck against the window. He looked up to the buildings, searching for the promised light in the sky. Yet all he could find were the gray clouds and too big buildings. His fingers played with each other, his feet never holding still for long enough.

Until suddenly, the car stopped in front of a rundown apartment complex far away from the lights of Seoul’s center.

“We’re here.”

Jae whipped his head toward the driver whose fingers were clenched around the wheel. Blond strands were falling into his eyes. There hadn’t been the time for Brian to style them before the flight and his bandana was long packed in his suitcase.

The silence was suffocating. Ever since Jae had stood in front of that door and taken up on Sungjin’s offer to follow him to Seoul, Brian gave him the cold shoulder even though they were supposed to move in here together. And with here, Jae meant Seoul. It was his first time in ages that he was in Korea and it felt so surreal.

The city felt big and threatening, making his chest squeeze in fear for what anticipated him here. Jae agreed to work for a mob; Jae who not once in his life had willingly harmed a single soul.

The car was still running, and Brian’s fingers cramped around the steering wheel, his face obscured by his hair, and Jae wished he could push them behind Brian’s ears if he weren’t so afraid of doing anything wrong.

“Won’t you come up with me?”

Brian’s fingers finally let go of that wheel and began to fiddle around, taking out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and sticking it into his mouth. Jae grimaced at the smell of burnt tobacco, wondered about Brian smoking and rolled down the window to get in some fresh air to breathe.

The air in Seoul wasn’t as fresh as in LA.

“I’m busy,” Brian said eventually, no emotion in his voice whatsoever. His shoulders, though, were as tense as a strung thread.

“Oh.” Jae swallowed, thinking of something else to say. “Maybe when you’re not busy anymore, we can go out sometime later? You must have missed the city and—”

“Sorry, I can’t.” Brian took a deep drag from his cigarette. “Like I said, I’m busy.”

“The whole day long?”

Brian nodded.

Jae slumped down in his seat, obviously upset at his partner. If he could call him that anymore. Ever since things went to hell Brian had distanced himself. The late-night calls decreased until they eventually stopped, the same happened to their messages. No more dates, no kisses, no touches.

It would be easier if Brian only told Jae what was going on in that brain of his. Maybe even break up with him. It would have been okay because then Jae knew at least where they stood. This now was torture. He was constantly second guessing himself but still reassuring Brian that yes, Jae still loved him more than anything in this world. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been here in Seoul to begin with.

Jae took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I did something—”

“I’m kinda running out of time here, Jae-hyung.”

Ouch. That cold voice mixed with the lack of endearing words hit something deep within Jae. But it’s okay. He’s used to it by now. He would forget about it because it’s Brian. He was everything that Jae had in this world.

Stranded in a foreign country with a language he barely spoke, filled to the brim with people who looked alike but yet were so different in their whole being. Jae stood at the edge of the street and watched that run-down car of Brian sped off through the early November evening. A small suitcase and a bigger guitar case were leaning against his leg, a key dangling from his finger, the sun descending from the sky.

It had been long and lonely days in Seoul during his first winter there.

~~~

Here again, he sits in a car, looking into the void. Maybe there is a city that he is passing by, maybe the city is more colorful and prettier than Seoul. He doesn’t know. All he can do is staring outside of the window, focusing on nothing. He feels numb, dead in his deepest core.

Sun shines down on them, it’s blinding him. Luckily, he wears sunglasses and a hat with a wide brim. If it weren't for the numbness, he would feel like an idol. Only he doesn’t. He does just… nothing.

“We’re here.”

That same voice again, this time filled with warmth and worry.

For the first time in hours, Jae moves his head up. A nice apartment tower stands sturdily before them. It’s older than the shiny ones they passed, yet neatly and clean. The windows are gleaming in the sun.

Right, they aren’t in Seoul anymore.

This city is brighter and warmer than Seoul. More colors and the air fresher.

The car door on the other side opens and closes again, a few second later his own opens up. Younghyun hovers over the door and looks down to Jae with furrowed brows. His black hair falls over his eyes, shorter than the shaggy blond back when they had met, longer than he usually wears them.

Younghyun offers him a hand with a tentative smile. Jae regards it with a blank face of his own and forgoes the hand, only climbs off the car without a word. He doesn’t miss how Younghyun’s shoulders fall and—

Nothing.

He doesn’t feel anything.

Younghyun then gets two bags out of the car and nods to the building. “Let’s get in there, okay?” He strides forward to the entrance, looking back from time to time to make sure that Jae follows him. His feet take the steps, his body moves, but his mind never catches up.

It feels like cotton inhabits his head. Everything is dulled and numb, and his mind barely keeps up with reality. He can’t bring himself to care about it.

The apartment they enter is surprisingly nice. It’s on one of the highest floors and gives a nice view to a small park from afar. No wide windows like Jae’s own flat has them. It is neat, nice and ordinary. It looks like a small family lives in here. The walls are blank with pictures missing everywhere and the furniture are from the past decade. It has charm. Nice. Maybe. Jae doesn’t know.

“Okay, there’s a big bedroom down the hall on the right and a smaller one on the left.” Younghyun points towards the closed door at the end of the hallway, his hands still clinging to the bags. “You can choose which one you want.”

He looks expectantly at Jae, eyes full of hope for Jae to finally say something. Only that Jae shrugs indifferently and enters the living room instead. He hears a disappointed sigh behind him, ignores it, and fixates on a spot in front of the window.

The windowsill is broad and offers enough place for a pillow to vacate the place. Someone made the corner into a comfy space for watching out of the window. Jae sits down there, leans his head against the window and—

The scenery is calming. Not as hectic as Seoul, less people, more sun. Jae likes it. A serene minute to find some peace in.

Steps echo through the hallway until they stop, and Jae sees Younghyun through the reflection, standing in the door frame and watching Jae. He can’t see his face, can’t make out anything from the vague image of the reflection.

It’s for the better. He doesn’t want to see the grimace on Younghyun’s face.

The thought of spending time with Younghyun in such a small space makes his stomach churn. They don’t have a choice, no, not with the way Sungjin nearly exploded at the truth and the hanging death threat over their heads. Jae doesn’t fear for his own life; it is the other’s he doesn’t want to lose. So, he hadn’t said a single word when Sungjin sent them away for their own protection.

(“It’s only for a while until we can make sure that you’re safe with us,” Sungjin said with some doubt mirroring in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Younghyun answered with a shake of his head while his hand was still holding onto Jae’s. “I have a plan. I know where we can hide for a while.”

Jae didn’t hear much of the conversation. He was out of it for most of the time, only staring down to the floor with stinging eyes and a heart that wouldn’t stop beating fast. Wonpil had his arms slung around his frame, his face hidden in his neck, pressing kisses into his skin.

Wonpil told him “We will see each other soon again” instead of farewell.

Jae clings to the words religiously.)

He doesn’t know how much time passed with him sitting at the window, but the sun has already started to descend. Dawn is a beautiful time, fit for spilling out worries and emotions deeply buried inside. Although, Jae doesn’t have a single word to say.

A cup clinks next to him and Jae rips his head away from the scenery. The cup is filled with steaming tea, the smell of peppermint filling the air. Younghyun’s hand slowly retracts from it before the younger sits down next to him, his back facing the window. Jae looks curiously at him.

After a few minutes of silence, Younghyun looks at him with a worried gleam in his eyes. “How are you?”

The sun tints everything in hues of red and orange, colors reflecting off of Younghyun’s hair and skin. It takes his breath away – but then, when doesn’t Younghyun’s sight do this? Jae has already established so often how beautiful the sight of Younghyun is, a fact that will never ever change as long as Younghyun exists. Even in death, his beauty would shine brighter than every shadow eating him away.

Jae takes the cup into his hands and sips cautiously at it. It tastes perfect.

“Thank you.”

The smile growing slowly on Younghyun’s lips worth it to speak up for the first time in days, even though his voice is hoarse and quiet from not being used at all.

“I was hoping you would like it.” The way his voice changes when he smiles, as if happiness fills him deep inside and spills over into everything that is Younghyun.

“It’s good.” Jae returns the smile warmly, just a small barely-there tug on his lips. Still, the way Younghyun’s face lights up at the small gesture makes his day. Maybe spending his whole time here with Younghyun won’t be as bad as he imagines it to be.

It’s heart wrenching to watch then how Younghyun’s smile falls from his lips and he frowns to the room. The mood darkens, especially when he says, “You shouldn’t leave this place the next few days until things calm down. I’m gonna go down to the supermarket and buy some food. Just—stay here. And if something happens, the phone is right there.” With his finger, he points to the device sitting on a sideboard across the room.

Jae only nods and leans back onto the glass, looking out of the window again, not once tearing his gaze away even when he hears the door closing.

~~~

It felt like arriving home. After days of loneliness, being surrounded by people he didn’t know, speaking a language he just got the hang of, far away from the place he had been living before, lying here in Brian’s arms felt like arriving home again. The park was serenely silent and the weather of arriving spring warm on their skin.

They laid in the grass far from the public’s eye and breathed in the air of freedom, enjoying their small little bubble. The grass was wet beneath them, yet it didn’t bother Jae at all. Not with the way lying in Brian’s arms felt, like snow melting off and cold vanishing. As if spring had finally arrived again.

“I missed you,” Brian whispered into his ear, his lips tingling against the sensitive skin. It felt like Brian was spilling his deepest secrets when he talked in such hushed whispers, simple endearing words and exclamations of love, until it finally ends with a simple “I love you.”

Jae beamed brightly at him with his heart swelling in his chest and thousands of butterflies filling his stomach with such an exciting feeling. “I love you, too.”

Brian leaned down until their lips met. A simple peck, short and yet so full of unspoken words, it’s all Jae had wished for.

The younger shifted beneath him and put his head over Jae’s, their fingers intertwined. Wind gushed through their hairs, mixing dark brown shades with endearing red.

“Sungjin is quite impressed with you,” Brian mumbled against his head, nuzzling his nose against Jae’s crown. “Said you can be convincing if you want to.”

Jae only hummed in agreement, looking up cheekily at the other. “I am, right? I thought if I can talk my way out of shit, I don’t have to do… you know… the bad things.”

“The bad things?” Brian mused with a light chuckle. “You mean killing people?”

“Yeah, that.” Another kiss was pressed against his head, this time Brian lingered longer than before. “Something on your mind?”

Brian shook his head, then grinned innocently at him. “No, I’m just impressed. That you still hold onto such moral even though—”

“The world we live in doesn’t have them?” Brian nodded. “I know. And honestly, I thought I was ready to do it. But then I stood in front of that kid and my hand was shaking and—I think Wonpil took the gun out of my hand and told me to go home. That’s when I knew: I can’t do this, ever.”

“Wonpil’s good to you?”

Jae halted in his thought. The topic change wasn’t abrupt per se, it was just that from experience Jae knew that Brian avoided the topic of Wonpil. There was a slight animosity towards their junior, something that Jae couldn’t explain himself to. Wonpil was sweet, calm and strange in his own ways. He was killing people without blinking twice but caring at the same time.

“Yeah, I—yeah?” Jae faltered when he couldn’t see Brian’s face that he was hiding in Jae’s shoulder.

“Good.”

Strangely enough, that was the end of their conversation. Jae left the park with a barely there bad feeling. Brian had been odd for months by now, so him doing something unusual wasn’t—unusual in a way. Jae was used to it.

Still, he couldn’t get rid of the knots forming in his stomach, whispering doubts to his heart.

If only he had listened to what Brian was really asking him.

~~~

It is not even an hour later when the door opens again and Younghyun enters the flat. He heaves two plastic bags onto the table, filled to the brim with food. Jae only watches him from his spot at the window, not making a move to help him.

Younghyun works his way diligently through the bags. One thing after another being pulled out and then brought to the kitchen. Jae can see Younghyun in the kitchen from here where Younghyun moves around without a thought. His hands and feet know exactly where they have to be, where things have to be put in.

How odd.

Jae doesn’t waste any thought on it when he discovers the box sitting afar from the groceries. While Younghyun is distracted in the kitchen, Jae leaves his seat at the window to inspect the box. It is, just as Jae thought, hair dye. The word _black_ stares at him.

“It’s for you.”

Having not expected Younghyun, Jae jumps at the sudden voice. He holds the box to his chest while his other hand clenches behind his back, nearly gripping the small gun hidden under his shirt and jeans.

Younghyun nods towards the box. “It’s easier to disappear if you have the same hair color as ninety percent of the people.”

That’s how Jae ends up sitting on a small stool in the bathroom. His clothes have been swapped with an old shirt and sweatpants that he found in the closet and a towel is slung around his neck. Younghyun currently works the color into Jae’s not so blond strands anymore. The color squelches between his plastic gloves but the feeling— Jae really enjoys getting this free head massage from those magical hands.

He closes his eyes and relaxes beneath Younghyun’s hands, falling into a trance like state where no thought enters his mind at all.

The silence surrounding them is comfortable and it somehow makes Jae forget about everything. For now, they are only two normal people in a normal flat, doing normal things. It’s domestic in a way. Before they have started Jae’s make over, Younghyun prepared a soup that is now brooding in the kitchen. The smell of said soup is filling the flat and Jae’s nostrils. It smells like home.

“I think,” Younghyun eventually breaks the silence with a teasing tilt to his voice, “Your hairline is receding.”

“Fuck off,” Jae answers because Younghyun might only be speaking the truth. Jamie always warns him that dyeing it too often will make him bald soon enough.

“Maybe then I can finally get better access to that big forehead of yours.”

Jae scratches said forehead. “It’s not that big. It’s a normal sized forehead.”

“An airplane can land on it.”

“Shut up!” Jae starts to pout. “Why do you even need to get better access to it?”

All the sudden, Younghyun moves in front of him. His bright smile disarms Jae. “To do this.” And then he proceeds to press a soft kiss against his forehead – which Jae hasn’t seen coming at all. He stares up to Younghyun with his small eyes as big as they can get, his mouth slightly open. It draws a chuckle from Younghyun. “How can someone who’s nearly thirty years old look like a child?”

And he’s back to pouting. “What is this? ‘Diss Jae day’ or what?”

Younghyun chuckles again before he leans down to press a chaste kiss against Jae’s nose. “I’m going to look how the soup’s getting along. Wash the dye off in thirty minutes, ‘kay?”

Without even waiting for a response, Younghyun leaves the bathroom while he discards the gloves into the nearest trashcan. Jae can only watch his retreating back, his breath slowly coming back to him.

Younghyun kissing him is nothing new. That is actually one of the few things that hasn’t changed between them at all. The kisses—never against the lips—always have been part of their dynamic – whether be it during their relationship, after their break-up or the many tries of not being attracted to each other. Kisses against the neck, the nose or any other part of their body, even after years, they never stop.

Jae loves it as much as he hates it. For obvious reasons.

He follows Younghyun into the kitchen but stays put in the door frame, decides to watch Younghyun cooking from afar. The younger hums while he stirs the soup, whipping up and down in the rhythm of the song. The urgent feeling of pressing his lips against Younghyun’s rolls over him in waves, one small wave turning into a raging storm.

Maybe living with Younghyun for a few days won’t be too bad.

Correction: living with Younghyun now is probably the best thing that could happen to Jae’s broken heart now.

~~~

That first night, Jae sleeps alone in the master bedroom. Better said, Jae tries to sleep. The first few hours, he stares at the ceiling. Moonlight is filtering in through the window, painting the room in hues of blues. The darkness isn’t dark at all, but the light isn’t bright either. The ceiling is spotless, nothing for Jae to count or to stare at. Only a blue tinted wallpaper.

Then, he eventually falls asleep. A fitful and brutal rest. His mind is filled by the burnt in pictures of the church. This time, he sees it in flashes. No linear plot or thought, barely anything makes sense except for his mind filling in the blanks his dreams produces.

Where he stands in front of the church at first, he suddenly finds himself inside it. The church is dark, the windows bleeding, burning red light shining through. The crucified figure at the altar starts to move their head, their mouth forming words that don’t reach Jae’s ears. He stands in front of the altar, his hands reaching out towards the beautiful face.

Sammy looks at him with those eyes, intense and pretty just like Younghyun’s. They are dark, darker than the blackness creeping up on the floor until it snatches around Jae’s ankles. His hands grab at Sammy’s torn and bloodied white blouse whereas Sammy looks down at him. He is still speaking to Jae, his mouth forming the same words again and again. Desperation clings to Sammy, the throat clogged in panic. Jae doesn’t want to let go of him, no matter how hard the darkness tears at his ankles.

He screams. Jae screams with everything he has but no sound is heard in his dream besides the steady flow of water in the background. A hand grabs his leg. Jae lets go with one hand. A tear escapes Sammy’s eye, deep red running down along his cheek. Another one drops, painting streaks of red on white skin.

The hand presses harder against his leg and Jae looks down. A mistake.

Down there is the gruesome sight of a monster with black and dark red eyes, blood running down like tears. The skinny figure bares his toothless mouth in a distorted grin.

Jae whips his head up again when he hears a whimpered laugh. His hands let go of the crucified person as soon as the sight of Younghyun grinning like a madman startles him, a cigarette stuck in his mouth.

He doesn’t fall down, though, he drowns. Where a hole in the floor has been waiting for him is now only a deep black ocean. The monster lets go of his ankle and reaches around his chest, catches Jae drowning and takes him further down with him.

For the first time in his dream, he feels some sort of calmness. Underwater he can’t hear the flood anymore, only tormenting silence. He feels weightless, the burden on his shoulders not existing anymore. Jae wants to surrender. Wants to drown in this darkness and never surface again. He is sick of the shallows and longs for the definite end. He has been falling for so long that he only wants to finally reach the ground.

He closes his eyes slowly. The sight of Sammy bleeding in the church is in front of his eyes again. Only now the church is tinted in dark blues and black, nearly empty except for Sammy standing in front of the altar, wearing that stupid black hoodie that hasn’t fooled anyone. The water on the floor starts to stir.

There is only one thing he can do. Jae starts running towards Sammy, running and running but never reaching him. The small church seems so big suddenly, a never-ending path getting longer and longer, and Sammy is still so far away.

The water makes sudden waves, getting bigger with every step.

The arms around his chest starts to tighten. He is pressed against something warm. A voice is whispering things into his ears.

Jae realizes suddenly that he is lying on the floor with his face pressed against the carpet. Sammy cocks his head with a sad smile on his lips, fading away into nothingness.

His world tilts as his body gets heaved up, the chest pressing further into his back. The arms hold him tight, they clam him up. Jae can’t breathe properly anymore, he needs space soon, fast.

“You- Younghyun,” he whimpers with a hoarse throat and suddenly, falls forward on the floor again. The hands are back on his body, only now cradling his head into the other’s neck, holding him dear.

Younghyun smells good, less like cigarettes and more like something undeniably Younghyun. It soothes Jae’s mind while his eyes close again. Is this a dream or is this reality?

His body gets moved around until it falls against something soft. The rustling of a paper bag, the dumb pop of a plastic bottle being opened, clatter of small pearls, and the stream of water meeting ground. Soon his head is being pulled up, the mouth pried open with one hand while the other shoves in two pills, rinsed with water afterwards.

Jae succumbs to the darkness fast. His mind fades into nothingness just after he feels the bed dipping down next to him and the same arms holding him softly again.

~~~

When Jae awakes again, he does so with a loud groan. He feels like a truck has run him over. His head is pounding hard and his throat feels as if he were screaming for hours. He doesn’t remember much from last night, a blurred image in his head that he doesn’t want to dwell any further on.

The spot next to him is empty. How disappointing.

A soft clank next to him makes him crack open an eye, only to close it again with a whine spilling out of his lips. The sun shines brightly through the window. Soon enough, the curtains get drawn and the room darkens a bit. Thank heaven.

Jae tries to open his eyes again. His head is still throbbing.

“Drink this.”

His head turns slowly towards Younghyun’s soft voice where the younger is crouching in front of the bed with a glass of water and two pills in his other hand. Jae takes them with a small thanks and sits up to take them.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what to do and just gave you the pills.” Younghyun looks earnestly at him, a small frown etched on his face. A look that certainly isn’t made for Younghyun’s beautiful face.

So, Jae only shrugs to dissolve the strange atmosphere. “It’s for the better. At least I could sleep through the night without a nightmare.” Younghyun’s grimace tells him another story. “Or another nightmare. Was it that bad?”

“You were screaming for half an hour, I think?” Jae’s face falls. “And ran down the hallway while bumping into every piece of furniture.” He buries his head into his hands in shame. “And maybe you also teared out bits of your hair?” Well, that explains the slight burning sensation he feels on his scalp (or maybe that’s only a reaction to the cheap supermarket hair dye).

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Younghyun chuckles amusedly. “Don’t be. As long as everything’s alright now…” The smile he gifts him with lets Jae melt on the spot.

He decides to whine instead. “No, that’s so embarrassing. I hate that this happens. I feel like a traumatized damsel in distress.”

“Well, at least your knight in shining armor is here to save you,” Younghyun answers cheekily. “But seriously though, don’t be embarrassed. This was some scary shit in the church and you’ve already been suffering from PTSD before that.”

“How do you know?”

Younghyun smiles innocently. “Wonpil talks about his problems. Or, well, about your problems.”

“That snake,” Jae huffs under his breath. “It’s embarrassing, nonetheless. I’m Sungjin’s right hand, I should be able to deal with it and not going mental.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Younghyun’s voice sounds rueful. Wistfully exhausted. “No one’s supposed to just deal with it. We all deal and suffer in our own ways.”

“And how do you do that? Deal with your problems?”

Younghyun looks at him, contemplating. There’s something about him that Jae hasn’t noticed before. Or maybe he has but never spent any thought on it any further.

“I’ve become a chain-smoker.”

Yes, he did. Albeit Jae knows better. Throughout the years spent by Younghyun’s side, no matter if they were close or apart, Jae had learnt how to detect the lie in his voice. This? This isn’t a lie exactly, but not the whole truth either.

How intriguing.

“I’ve done western style breakfast if you want any?”

Who says no to food?

(We ignore the fact that Jae hadn’t eaten the last few days except for the few things that Wonpil shoved into his throat so Jae didn’t starve to death.)

(Wonpil deserves a fucking medal for his service. Or maybe a salary rise. Definitely the last one.)

That’s how Jae ends up shoveling scrambled eggs and a jam sandwich into his mouth. The coffee isn’t the best and kind of tastes like old beans, but Jae doesn’t complain.

Who needs Korean breakfast when you can have eggs and toast?

“This is the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time.” Jae pats his stuffed belly with a satisfied sigh on his lips.

“You want more?”

“God, yes, please!”

It’s when Younghyun laughs heartily while piling more and more food onto his plate that Jae thinks, yes, he can get used to it. It is basically everything he had wished for in the past, isn’t it? The easy and domestic life with the man he holds dear to him in a small but comfy home and with no worries at all. No drugs and money and corpses to think about, only their own small bubble filled with warm smiles and even warmer words.

The silver of light turns into the sun shining fully through the window. It warms him everywhere, his skin, his bones and most of all his heart because the light highlights the blueish tone in Younghyun’s black hair. It’s pretty in every way that Younghyun is.

Though the most beautiful part will always be the way Younghyun looks at Jae. His eyes lose some of their intensity to make space for something even more intense, something that shakes Jae down to his core in a positive way. A feeling that Jae feels deeply within himself is mirrored in this space, a silver of light through an ocean of darkness.

It’s time for a topic change in Jae’s mind.

“Where exactly are we?”

Jae was out of his mind when Sungjin decided for where to hide him from G-Dragon. These whole days are blurred and vague to him. He knows the gist of the things that happened, not the details.

“We’re in a small apartment complex in Ilsan.” Younghyun swallows his bite from the toast before he answers. “Ilsan is—”

“I know where Ilsan is. It’s actually right next to Seoul.” That’s what Sungjin told him if he remembers correctly. “How come he sent us here?”

“He didn’t.” Jae looks up, curiosity piqued. “I did. This flat is one of my save houses if you want to call it that.” He pours some more coffee into Jae’s cup. “I knew you would fight me if I take you any further away from Seoul.”

“Why that?” Jae sputters.

Younghyun only shrugs in return. “You are a workaholic. It doesn’t matter how much you despise it, you can’t stop working until you find some peace in your work. And since you worry much about the people you care about, you won’t find any peace until you solve things.”

“Oh.” That’s really thoughtful of him.

“But,” Younghyun continues with a stern voice, “for the next few days, you won’t work at all. Treat this as some kind of vacation. Plus, Sungjin forbade us to contact any of our folks anyway.”

If vacation stays like this with Younghyun waking him up with breakfast, then maybe Jae will enjoy it a little bit.

Maybe.

~~~

When Younghyun’s out again to get some dinner from a restaurant nearby, Jae uses his chance to check out the whole flat. Younghyun said it is one of his safe houses and Jae wants to find out if there is any specific reason as to why. So far, he hasn’t found anything. The flat is clean, even too clean, it looks lived in at first glance, but the lack of anything personal tells him otherwise.

The last room he hasn’t been in is the room where Younghyun stays in. He opens the door enthusiastically, so it bangs against the wall. What he finds inside isn’t what he expected. The walls are painted in a light blue and lots of posters are hung on it. From old Kpop artists to western singers of the last decade, everything is pictured in them.

Jae really hasn’t expected to wander into the room of a teenager because the room is basically this; the epitome of the cliched thirteen-year-old. A small bed makes way for a bigger desk and wardrobe, although the most interesting thing there is the guitar stand in the corner – which leaves the question of the guitar’s whereabouts. Jae looks under the bed, only to find one shoe box next to the other. The wardrobe only holds the spare clothes Younghyun brought with him.

Oh.

When Jae scans the room in search of the instrument, he sees something scribbled on the wall right next to the door. Someone wrote a lot of music notes with a black permanent marker on the wallpaper. The text beneath it has unfortunately faded with time.

Jae steps forward to the lines and touches it with his fingers. Huh? The ink is painting his fingers black. The notes have been written over sometime today. His fingers follow the melody and he starts to hum it under his breath.

He needs to find that guitar.

He looks under the bed again, only this time he shoves the boxes away. The heavy boxes. What is in them that makes them this heavy?

He takes one box carefully out and opens the lid. His breath stills for a short moment when he sees the gun and magazines stashed in there, but exhales again once he realizes that Younghyun probably has put them in there.

The next box’s content is similar only that it contains different sized knives. He doesn’t try to question as to why Younghyun needs so many knives in a box under his bed.

The third box is lighter than the others because it is filled to the brim with paper and pictures. A few depict different places on earth, mostly landmarks and popular tourist attraction. He even finds a picture of the Santa Monica pier in Los Angeles. His heart throbs at the thought of home and inevitably of Sammy, so he puts the picture hurriedly away.

Jae wonders why he finds something like this in here. Is this one of Younghyun’s boxes? And if yes, why would he bring them with him? A grin sneaks onto his face when he thinks that maybe this is some part of Younghyun that the younger tries to hide from everyone. It irks him even more to get the fourth and last box out from under the bed.

What he finds in the fourth box takes Jae by surprise. The box is filled to the brim with pictures of… him. His own crooked smile is staring up at him while his arm is slung over Younghyun’s shoulder. A much younger and blonder Younghyun. Next to it, another one. And another one. One where Jae laughs with his whole body. One where Jae sleeps peacefully on the sofa. One where Jae eats and throws a nasty glance at Younghyun. One where he plays the guitar. One where he writes his essay on his laptop.

As if Younghyun had gone and printed out every picture he had taken from Jae in America. And Jae’s heart breaks when he can remember nearly all of the situations the pictures were taken in, even in those he didn’t know existed before.

What does it mean that Younghyun still has them? Does he feel the same about them as Jae does about his own pictures safely stored in his wardrobe?

When he finds Sammy in one of the pictures, he takes it softly between his fingers and smiles down at the dorky faces they make.

When he feels the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes, Jae takes a deep breath and pushes the box back into its place.

That’s when he finds the guitar. He takes the instrument out and hums in surprise when he discovers another two boxes right at the back. He reaches out for one of them with some difficulty.

What he finds in there are papers ripped out from notebooks, words and lines written by Younghyun sometimes neatly and sometimes hurriedly. When he reads through them, he quickly realizes that those are lyrics and that Jae knows most of them. Hell, some of them are his own words he had once said to Younghyun.

_Every day, I lived like I was dead, but you became the reason for me to get up once more. You made me wanna open my eyes_

_Don’t forget me. Cherish me, so that you could feel me. Sing me, remember me. So that I could last forever (sing me)_

_Someday, the day will clear again. Someday, the darkness that follows us will disappear. I have hope_

_After you left me, my world had already stopped, it had already ended_

_I’m running out of breath as I run to the deep ocean that swallowed up the stars. I see the dry land from far away, but your touch is like the sweet rain. It colors my heart_

Jae takes a faltering breath, overwhelmed by many different emotions. Younghyun always had this talent of writing things that touch the deepest parts of his heart. The lyrics resonate with something within himself. Like an echo that makes waves on a still ocean.

The guitar lies heavy on his lap. He turns his head towards the wall. What lyrics have been written on there?

His fingers pick at the strings, playing note for note until a song echoes within the four walls. His head bobs with the melody, his eyes closed. He can already feel the meaning, but he craves for more. The notes end, Jae’s fingers don’t. The melody plays in his head, running through his blood, pouring out of his heart. His head bobs to the music, his eyes closed to feel it resonate with his soul.

He is lost in the music. No harsh beating heart, no staggering breathes, serene calmness in a perfect equilibrium. His thoughts quieten to make place for white blankness, a space he can claim and make a home in.

Jae doesn’t see nor hears anything outside of his small bubble, not the shadow of a figure or the quiet thump of head meeting the wall in the hallway. Only seconds later, Jae hears the door opening with a loud bang and nearly lets the guitar clank against the floor.

Shit, Younghyun must be back. Jae realizes that he may step over a line by rummaging through Younghyun’s things without the younger’s agreement.

What Younghyun doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

So, Jae shoves the guitar with utmost care and urgency under the bed along with the boxes, then jumps up and hurries out of the room after glancing into the hallway. Seeing Younghyun’s shadow in the hallway, the younger currently moves around in the kitchen. Jae closes the door quietly behind him and ventures down towards the kitchen. He readies himself to play off the sniffing around, only to come face to face with a clueless Younghyun busy with putting away the groceries.

And Jae is met with the simple question: What now? He has been given a glimpse into Younghyun’s deeper thoughts without asking him first, which, that Jae acknowledges, is a pretty shitty move. Now he doesn’t know how to confront the younger without feeling complicated… feelings (feelings more complicated than before, mind you).

Jae stands there and swallows, licking his lips and… yeah.

“Is everything alright?” Younghyun’s voice tears him out of his thoughts. He looks inquiringly at Jae, an easy smile on his face.

Watching that smile, it brings back so many memories. Like a setback to a moment where Younghyun was still Brian, smiling while he put the food on their plates and being watched by Jae him from the door, expression mirrored to each other.

That same smile breaks out on Jae’s own face and tinges Younghyun’s with surprise. His eyes gleam in what Jae recognizes as fondness because reading Younghyun suddenly gets as easy as it once has been. Jae ducks his head in embarrassment and crosses his arms over his chest in a need to hide the feelings that are breaking through his walls.

A silver of light shining through the darkness of his ocean, showing him the way up. A hand reaching out for him, colors bursting in like drops of rain.

“Now I’m curious.” Younghyun smiles playfully, the gleam in his eyes still there. “What happened that you suddenly smile like that again?” When Jae only shrugs, a blush slowly creeping up his cheeks, Younghyun’s smile dims a bit to something overwhelmingly warm. “You haven’t looked at me like that for years, hyung.”

Jae licks his lip again, then bites on his lower lip. “Who knows.” The blush paints the tips of his ears red along to the back of his neck. “What are you making today?”

Younghyun hums in thought. “I don’t know. I thought about some bulgogi if you want?”

“Sounds good.” Jae hesitates. “Maybe I can help cooking?”

That smile. It melts the snow that is still lingering in summer, slowly making place for all the flowers that didn’t have a chance of growing. A smile that Jae longs for so much. He wants it so much; he wants to sling his arms around Younghyun’s waist and dip down to catch his breath with his own lips.

Younghyun’s dangerous smile burns itself into Jae’s mind, suddenly not so seemingly dangerous anymore.

“That would be nice.”

~~~

For the first time in days Jae wanders around the streets of Ilsan. It isn’t much different than Seoul or any other big city. People are bustling around, wearing light and bright shirts to fight against the heat of the sun burning their skins. Jae’s head is sweating under the dark bucket hat he is wearing. For safety measure.

Jae has been getting on Younghyun’s nerves for days. He felt like a prisoner in the flat and constantly asked Younghyun to let him out onto the street. At least, let him venture into the park that he could see from his seat at the window.

(Jae spends an unusually high amount of time staring out of the window and doing nothing. There is nothing to do in their apartment. No TV, Jae doesn’t have his phone with him and Younghyun still hasn’t shown him the guitar that is hidden under his bed – what else can Jae do except for staring out of the window in hopes of seeing something.)

(Jae still plays the guitar once Younghyun is out. Why the younger is free to walk around and Jae not is a question he always asks but never gets an answer to.)

(Why is Jae even listening to Younghyun? That pisser is beneath him in their mob hierarchy and yet here Jae is, not stepping out of line from the rules Younghyun has set.)

When Jae reminded Younghyun about the upcoming birthday of their youngest, Younghyun agreed to let him stroll to the supermarket to buy and send Dowoon a postcard.

August is nearing its end – and with it the one date Jae can’t forget at all. The middle of September is a bit away but still, he gets nervous since he can’t do anything from out here. He has no intel and no way of contacting someone, otherwise he would put a risk on his members because G-Dragon could possibly trace their calls.

The only advantage Jae has by staying in Ilsan --except for being safe from Bigbang’s wrath-- is that he is in Ilsan. Ilsan is the city where one of the assassins lived in. He could do some investigation around the city – if Younghyun lets him do so.

Today though is only for a short walk to the supermarket.

The postcard he chooses depicts the park Jae can see from his window and it seems nice enough to send it to Dowoon. Jae starts writing the card with the usual birthday wishes and ends with a simple “Please take care of Wonpil, Casanova” and a cheeky emoticon he draws shakily.

When he throws the card into the postbox, a small hole-in-the-wall shop catches his eye. An electronic vendor who offers prepaid phones.

A bell tingles above the door when Jae enters and, instead of the dirty rundown shop he expected, the shop looks actually nice. The floor got recently cleaned and the phones are put nicely on display. The walls are lined with shelves and pictures of different bands because the electronic store not only sells electronics but also CDs and vinyl.

“Can I help you, sir?”

A young man enters from the backdoor and throws him that typical customer service smile. He looks a lot younger than Jae thought the vendor to be but who is he to judge. That boy could be older than him and Jae wouldn’t be none the wiser.

“I’m interested in one of your phones.”

“Which one?”

Jae looks at each of them before he decides – “Just give me the cheapest. I only want to have access to the internet.”

The vendor only nods before he takes out an old smartphone with a cracked display and starts to ring him up. Jae likes how he doesn’t ask any question and then starts to wonder if the vendor is used to this kind of customers.

His eyes trails over the pictures behind the vendor’s head. There are a lot of people in there, most of them looking old and laughing brightly. One of the men resembles the boy in front of him, probably his father. The man in his arms, who is in nearly all of the other pictures too, looks a bit familiar to Jae, but he can’t put his finger on why. A small symbol catches his attention. Most men are wearing tattoos with this symbol. It’s really cliched, Jae contemplates.

Those are gang tattoos. So, he was right in thinking that the vendor is used to not ask any questions.

“Here’s your phone, sir. Can I do anything else for you?”

The boy looks innocently at him and in this moment, Jae knows that they both know. The boy isn’t dumb, and Jae doesn’t try to be inconspicuous.

Jae is about to ask who the familiar man on the picture is when—

That’s a surprise.

He needed a second but now that he thinks about it, Jae’s one hundred percent sure that there is a picture of the vendor, Chan and Younghyun pinned to the wall between all the other pictures. The three boys look like – well, young boys, arms thrown over their shoulders and smiling brightly at the camera.

It makes sense. Chan did tell him once that he knows Younghyun for a long time, even before Younghyun went to the States.

“You know Bang Chan?” Jae goes with the safer question.

The vendor doesn’t even look surprised. Albeit, his own question takes Jae by surprise. “You must be Park Jaehyung, right?”

“Who’s asking?”

The boy smiles with his hands held up. “Younghyun-hyung told me much about you.” He hums before shrugs. “And he showed me pictures in case you find the shop.”

“Oh.” So that’s where Younghyun goes to when he’s out. “Yeah, I’m Park Jaehyung.”

“Lee Minho, nice to meet you.” Minho bows respectfully in front of him.

“Nice to meet you.” His eyes bounce back to the picture. Younghyun looks rather young in the picture and Chan even more so. Their faces are round with baby fat and the hairstyle typical for the last decade.

“This was before hyung went off to college.” Minho hangs off the picture and gives it to Jae. The background looks familiar. “Chan-hyung and I visited him at home that day. Hyung’s mother cooked too much like on any other day and we stuffed ourselves full of bibimbap. That was a few days before Younghyun decided to run off to Canada.”

How old must Younghyun have been on that picture? Start of high school makes him… what? Eighteen maybe? “How long do you know each other?”

Minho looks up to the ceiling in thought. “I think since Chan-hyung appeared here on the streets. My parents took him in back then but neither of us could speak a word English. So, father asked Kang-ssi if his son could take care of Chan-hyung. Luckily, Kang-ssi deemed Chan-hyung good enough for us.”

“Good enough for what?” Jae asks, confused.

Minho blinks at him. “You don’t know? Younghyun-hyung’s father was the head of Six before Sungjin-hyung took over.”

Wait a minute. “What?”

This is the first time Jae hears about it. He always thought his part when Younghyun talked about his parents – an incident that happened on rare occasions – that his father had to be involved in the mobster business in one way or another but the former head of Six? That’s news to him.

“Yeah. The mob was a small street gang here in Ilsan before Kang-ssi took over and made it to an actual mob.” Minho looks up to the pictures and—oh. That familiar man on most of them probably is Younghyun’s father. They share some facial attributes like the high cheekbones or the same curl of lips but only when you really look for it. “He unfortunately died a few years ago and upon the recommendation of JYP-nim, hyung-nim took over the mob. Only that hyung-nim did his own thing and relocated everything from Ilsan to Seoul and bullied all the old men into retirement. The only ones left from Ilsan are Chan-hyung, Younghyun-hyung and a handful of faceless people. I think Chan-hyung still recruits lots of people from Ilsan to work for him as delivery boys.”

Jae nods, completely thrown off by the facts over Younghyun that he hasn’t known before. Jae always thought he knows everything that he needs to, yet it seems like that’s wrong. When he had once asked what made him join the mob, Younghyun answered curtly ‘ _abeoji_ ’. And that was it. Jae just assumed that things went wrong somewhere in their relationship and as such Younghyun ran off to the States – because that’s what the younger had told him.

Jae is intrigued. And hurt. Mostly confused and hurt.

Because he thought that there are no more secrets and lies between him and Younghyun.

“Maybe you should talk to Younghyun-hyung.” Minho looks apologetically at him, probably sensing the hurt rolling off of Jae in waves. “I thought he told you everything.”

Obviously not. “Maybe I should.”

Minho nods before he hesitates. “Can you do me a favor, please?” Jae cocks his head to show that he’s listening. “Please tell Chan-hyung that he is always welcomed here, no matter what happens.”

This sounds cryptic as heck, but Jae is too busy to think about it any further. He gives his promise to do so and leaves the place. Younghyun has a lot of explaining to do.

~~~

It feels a lot like back when he confronted Younghyun about the true nature of his profession. Where Jae had turned one blind eye to another, Sammy didn’t. The late-night disappearance, the mysterious contacts that Jae wasn’t allowed to know of, all the secrecy—Sammy thought Younghyun had an affair.

Turned out that Jae would only catch Younghyun dealing drugs with the local street gang instead of him indulging the fond caresses of another person. Which then lead to the confession that Younghyun himself was in a mob. From Korea. Doing business for them.

The actual conversation with him had been lengthy and full of dramatics which led them to all of the shit here in the present.

The Korean drama that is actually Jae’s life presents:

Jae standing in the door to the living room and watching Younghyun who mulls over something written on a paper.

What happens in Jae’s head: He storms over to the very attractive man on the couch, throws the table over with all the papers, sits down on his lap and holds a knife at his throat to finally get the answers he deserves. Then, he recognizes how only a psychopath like Wonpil could do something like that, which means Jae has officially gone mad.

What happens in reality: Jae stares like the idiot he is and squirms in his spot until Younghyun calls him out with a deep sigh.

“Minho texted me he told you too much.”

Yes, right, Jae doesn’t need to be nervous. He needs to be angry. He channels all of his angry energy and lets the fire in his stomach rage into bursting flames, stomps over to the table and—no, he doesn’t throw over the table. Please, he isn’t barbaric.

“Which are obviously things that you should have told me a long time ago,” Jae scoffs and rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest as Younghyun looks up to him with a frown.

“I’ve told you these things before.”

Jae shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. I assumed things. I had a feeling that your father was in a gang, but not that he was the actual head of Six. You never told me you were friends with Chan before all of this mob shit, hell, Chan just told me about it when you got shot.”

Younghyun stands up to get to Jae eye to eye, raising his voice like he does. “I don’t see what your problem is. What does it matter that my father was the head of the gang? He is dead and it doesn’t really concern you. And I thought it is clear that Chan and I are friends since middle school. Everyone knows!”

“I didn’t!” Jae shoves his finger into Younghyun’s chest. “I didn’t know because you haven’t told me!”

“Because you weren’t either talking to me or listening!” Younghyun retorts, throws his hands exasperatedly into the air. “We broke up, we didn’t talk for months afterwards and when we did again, you had already snatched Chan away from me. He was supposed to be my assistant and you snatched him away because you were petty or something like that.”

That is indeed something Jae had done. Back then, he and Younghyun were competitors for Sungjin’s right hand spot. Younghyun had been the favorite for long because he knew the business and his casino was on the verge of rising up to number one in Seoul. Jae, meanwhile, who had done everything in his might to sour Younghyun’s life a little bit more, had a fast uprising within their ranks thanks to his talent of convincing people to do business with them. Jae became an information, the most useful position for Sungjin as his right hand. The only problem though: Jae hadn’t understood the business.

Cue: Bang Chan.

Wonpil was the one who made two pretty good suggestions: First, get someone on Jae’s team who sorts out business and second, get Chan as the person who sorts out his business. Because he who owned Chan would automatically own Six’s whole drug business.

Guess who got Chan in the end.

Back to the topic because Jae is seething with anger.

“This isn’t the fucking problem here, Brian!” He spats and Younghyun recoils at his name.

“Then tell me what the fucking problem is!”

“You—I—You—” Jae is grasping at straws. He doesn’t know how to articulate the anger in him. The resentment that storms back within seconds as if it has been lurking around for long and waited for its moment to finally awake again. “I thought we were done with this shit! I ask questions and you tell me half-truths.”

Younghyun angrily snorts. “Are you still hung up on that? That I didn’t tell you from the beginning I’m in a mob? Because that obviously works as a pick-up line. ‘Hey, you’re cute and I kill people for a living. Let’s get dinner.’”

Jae wants to rip out his own hair. This man is impossible. “This isn’t the fucking point! Again!”

“Then finally get to it!”

“I trusted you! I goddamn followed you into this fucking shithole, I killed a fucking person for you, and you don’t think of me worthy enough to tell me this is the place you were raised in. Your childhood friend works down the street and said childhood friend tells me things that you should have told me long ago!”

“I didn’t ask you to!” Younghyun’s glare challenged Jae’s own. His jaw tenses when he clenches his teeth and now is not the right time to think about how attractive it looks. “I didn’t ask you to follow me into this shithole here! I told you to stay out of my life and make something better out of you. You _are_ worthy enough to be in my life, hell, you are worth much more than this.”

Younghyun lays his hand against his own chest, his eyes glistening as he continues. “ _I_ am not worth enough for _you_. Look at this place. This is where I was raised by a father who dreamt of me becoming the next head of Six. But I didn’t because I wasn’t good enough. Because I didn’t want it. I ran away to America and found you instead, only to realize that I can’t have you.”

Younghyun takes a step forward. “All the things I do, I do because I love you.”

Jae shakes his head. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t be lying to me anymore if you did.”

“I love you, Park Jaehyung.” Another step. “I always did and always will.”

Jae wants to believe it. He wants to believe it so badly. “You don’t. You left me when I needed you the most. And you still leave me out.” A tear escapes Jae own eye. “The only thing I always wanted was you, Younghyun. I only want to be with you, no matter when or how, as long as I can stand by your side.”

Younghyun’s hands touch his cheeks. Their chests pressed together.

“I only wanted you to stay out of my world. This world swallows you into a deep ocean of darkness and breaks you in all ways. You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry.”

Jae’s own hands wind around Younghyun’s torso, pressing the other further into him. Their foreheads touch as do their noses, intimate, warmly.

“I loved you so much,” Jae confesses in a whisper. “And it hurts so much. It hurts so much that I keep loving you.”

He hears Younghyun’s gasp. Feels their lips touching lightly.

“You love me?” Younghyun sounds hopeful. Broken, sad, and yet so hopeful.

The ultimate truth of all of it, the roots of Jae’s problems and life, it all peaks in this one truth: Jae loves Younghyun. From the first moment on he was falling and drowning at the same time. He has never stopped doing so.

“More than—”

Jae never gets to the ending of his sentence. Lips are devouring his own, hurriedly and desperately, licks and bites and tongue until it slows down to something softer, emotional, meaningful.

Younghyun’s lips are soft. Softer than he remembers them to be. Younghyun kisses as if he is meaning it. Every movement, every soft closing and opening, it all is too much for Jae’s heart and yet he can’t get enough of it.

His hand wanders up into the strands of Younghyun’s hair, pushing his head further into his. Jae slowly opens his mouth and lets his tongue swipe over Younghyun’s lip, asking silently for more. Their tongues meet in a cautious greeting, slowly exploring each other’s mouth for the first time in years.

Their kiss is much softer than before. It’s a slow rediscovering of what has changed, every lick done with intention and meaning. The taste of Younghyun, so foreign and yet the same. It feels a lot like coming home.

A puzzle lost throughout time sliding into the empty place, balancing the scales into a perfect equilibrium. It’s neither push nor pull but a soft meeting of two people destined to stand by each other’s side, two souls intertwined through fate and will.

This is happiness. This is home. It’s all Jae has longed for a long time.

A whine leaves his throat when Younghyun draws back. His lips tingle with the loss of pressure, red and swollen.

“We should talk,” Younghyun whispers against his lips, pressing another chaste kiss onto them.

~~~

When Younghyun takes out the boxes under his bed, Jae plays the surprised. Only for Younghyun to throw him a nasty glare.

“I know that you already looked through them, hyung.”

Jae smiles sheepishly at him. “It wasn’t my intention, I swear—”

“I know.”

Younghyun puts the lid onto the floor. Jae remembers the box, the one with his own faces staring up. Younghyun, though, shoves them all aside to search for something deep down where Jae hasn’t bothered to look. The pictures of Jae make place for older ones: Younghyun being half the size than he is now, a bright and childish grin on his face, a small woman standing behind him with an equally happy grin. Another one of Younghyun only a bit older, wearing a school uniform and holding a basketball under his arm. Younghyun shuffles through them all until he finds the one he is searching for.

It’s a grim picture. Younghyun’s smile is replaced by a serious face. The woman to his right has a tired and blank face, her hand put on Younghyun’s shoulder. The most prominent figure in there is an older man with his head raised, his eyes screaming pride and danger. It’s the same man as in the pictures on Minho’s wall.

“This is my family.” Younghyun gives Jae the picture and points at the elder. “My father, Kang Youngjae. This picture was taken on my thirteenth birthday. That day, I became an official member of Six.”

Jae’s head whips up to see the grim look on Younghyun’s face. “Thirteen?”

Younghyun nods slowly. “My mother was strictly against it, but my father wasn’t the nicest man to be around. Kinda the opposite. He was a proud man who cherished honor and loyalty very much.”

“He sounds like—” Jae tries to find the right words.

“A horrible father?” Younghyun chuckles sadly. “Maybe. I mean, he only had our best interests in mind. Father came from a poor family and wished for us to not have the same life. He gave up school and joined a street gang when the money wasn’t enough anymore. The rest is history.” Younghyun grabs another picture. “He wanted the same for me. A safe future where I don’t have to worry about money at any time. Only that his way meant killing people for business.”

“He was an assassin?”

Younghyun swallows. “Yeah, before he became the head of the gang. It was the easiest way to get money. And so, the only logical thing to do was to introduce his son to his business. He made me kill the first person when I was fifteen.”

“Oh.” Jae fingers find Younghyun’s on the bed. They’re warm.

Younghyun sighs. “It wasn’t that bad being his son. He didn’t make me work hard, only made sure that I understood business and learnt the right skills. Taught me how to deceive people, how to smile, how to kill without leaving a trace, even how to gamble. For a long time, he had been the man I looked up to—until I didn’t.”

Jae slings his arm around Younghyun’s frame, let’s the younger lean his face on his chest. “What changed?”

“It hadn’t been a life changing moment. It just—It was there one day.” He hears Younghyun taking a deep breath.

“Chan and I loved music to the point that we started to write our own songs. Father didn’t like it, so we did it secretly. When I met Sungjin, I realized that he is so much better than me for the position father wanted me in. I did then the first thing that came to my mind and that was running away. I told him I would search for allies in Canada and he let me go. He was so proud of me.”

Younghyun suddenly looks up to Jae’s face, a grimace so broken that it tears his heart apart. “In Canada, I played guitar and bass and wrote lyrics and—and kissed men. If he had known the person that I became when I was free, he would have been outraged. And then I went to the States because that’s where the allies were. I couldn’t stand the thought that father is disappointed in me. I was working my whole life long towards that one goal of being the man he wishes me to be and I just couldn’t disappoint him.”

Jae squeezes his hand when Younghyun’s eyes become distant. When the younger looks up to him again, Jae tries to smile. It feels like a grimace but Younghyun is smiling back, and that’s enough for Jae.

“Someone then killed him.”

Oh.

There’s nothing in Younghyun’s eyes. No darkness, no grief, just Younghyun looking up with a blank and intensely gaze.

“Who did it?”

Younghyun only shrugs, playing with Jae’s fingers meanwhile. “Don’t know. I think it was Sungjin. He probably hired Wonpil to kill my father to get his spot and eventually me.”

“Wonpil wouldn’t ever—” Jae starts to protest but Younghyun shoots him down quickly.

“Wonpil would have, back then. We both know why.” Their fingers intertwine slowly, Younghyun’s eyes following the slow motion. “Love makes us do things. Brings the darkest side out of us just to see a glimpse of light.”

And Jae remembers that. He had asked Wonpil why he joined the gang and got the same answer: Love. Again and again, no matter how often Jae posed the question or dug deeper. It was always love.

The worst of it? He gets it. The darkness clamoring his soul in exchange for a peak of light that only so often peeks through the constricting water. Jae has long given up reaching for that light, since then desperate for air to breathe.

“Sungjin’s a cruel man,” Jae whispers into the darkness of the night. “And yet I see him as my friend. He makes us do things and we hate it, but then he smiles and everything’s okay.”

“That’s only you.” Younghyun flicks against his forehead. “You’re gullible and want to believe in our good sides. Even though Sungjin wants you to stop doing so, I don’t want you to. Please stay like that, Jae.”

His heart thrums against his chest unnaturally. His hands feel clammy and his ears hot.

“Why would killing your father bind you to Sungjin?” Jae decides to go back to their original conversation.

“Because Sungjin gave me the one thing I wanted the most.”

Only for him to take it away immediately. Just like he did to Jae. He gifted him the freedom of living a life in security. It took him months to realize that Sungjin didn’t gift him freedom; he only exchanged one problem for another. Jae’s life isn’t safe, it’s a spiel of danger that Jae has lost from the beginning. No one gets out of here without the help of death.

No one.

Not even Kang Younghyun.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

Younghyun presses his face into Jae’s neck, breathing hard. Jae lays his arms around Younghyun’s body, pulling him further into his own.

“I dragged you into my mess. You don’t deserve this life. You deserve so much better. I’m sorry that I was selfish enough to think that I could give you this life.”

“It’s okay—”

Younghyun shakes his head before he looks up. Their faces are only inches apart, their breaths mingling. “I wanted a house. This cliched American suburban house at the skirts of LA and a garage where our shiny car is parked. You would have studied and become the politician you hoped to be and maybe I’d have written songs for famous artists. And children. I thought, maybe we could’ve had a little girl and—and—” Younghyun chokes on his words, a gasp to take a long-needed breath.

Jae carefully sets Younghyun’s head against his shoulder, kissing his crown. His hands move in slow caresses, listening to the frustration and desperation. Jae can feel it deeply in his own heart, holding back his tears with a heavy swallow.

As he lays his cheek against the other’s head, Jae makes a promise.

Younghyun will get the future he wishes for so much.

~~~

The nights are still the hardest. His dreams are the worst. The sleeping pills only help him to fall into a restless fit, yet they are neither calming nor soothing. It’s terror. He doesn’t tell Younghyun, but Jae opts not to take them and to just endure the sleeplessness. Sometimes he would sit at the window and stare outside in the dark, other times he would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling in the dark. Always darkness.

Tonight, he dreams. Bad.

He walks through a hallway. Only one light illuminates his way, flickering. Rain outside is pouring, loudly. The hallway is familiar in every sense. He remembers the beige walls with green doors, opening doors to LA’s apartments near the beach. Other than in his memories, he doesn’t feel the anticipation of meeting his lover again; no, this time he feels dread churning his stomach.

The door at the end of the hallway opens and suddenly, Jae is standing in there, sees Younghyun with a backpack full of cocaine at his feet, a young boy looking scared at his face. When Jae gasps loudly—no, wait, not Jae but the Jae in his memories—Younghyun turns slowly, painfully so. He looks like a criminal caught in the act because—right, yeah, that is the night Jae had learnt about Younghyun’s not so innocent double life.

A simple surprise visit indeed surprising.

In his memories, Jae shouts in confusion. Only now he looks down to Younghyun’s feet and sees the corpse of Sammy bleeding out on the carpet. Younghyun’s face is splattered with blood, the knife in his hand dripping red splotches onto the gray carpet.

Younghyun looks scared to Jae. Because Jae is aiming a gun at his chest, his hand steady. Police sirens sound through the night, albeit his body is calm. His mind isn’t in scrambles and his heart isn’t tumbling. Jae is one hundred percent sure of what he is doing.

What is he doing though?

His finger pulls the trigger, glass breaks, and the impact is harder than he anticipated. Younghyun bleeds though his chest, looking blankly at Jae, not saying a word. Only his hand reaches into the pocket of the shirt Jae shot through, pulling out a card.

A card that burns itself into the deepest pits of Jae’s mind before he gets pulled out of the room, back into the streets of Seoul, his own chest bleeding deep red that becomes one with the rain beneath him. The rain prattles hard against his face, mingling with the tears streaking his face. The stars are not to be seen, only tall buildings hovering over him like the warning reminder they are. Desperation claws at him. His heart throbs painfully against his chest, bleeding and bleeding, his breath long lost.

A faint melody dances to his ears and he thinks that maybe he came back for him.

Younghyun hasn’t.

When Jae turns his head towards the melody, he sees someone else sitting at a grand piano, fingers swiftly flying over the keys, pressing and composing, a melody so familiar to Jae. The song that was stuck in his head weeks ago, he had heard it once. He remembers now.

Wonpil looks ethereal playing the piano, calm and at peace, and with every played note something stitches itself back together in Jae’s chest. His savior that night, picking him up on the street, taking care of that wound in his shoulder, talking slowly in Korean to him. Two broken hearts in the midst of the night, rain lessening with time like their wounds awaited to be healed.

Fingers touch his face, cold and full of callouses. A faint whisper against his ear, a shallow breath against his cheek. Something wet drops under his eye, running down on the side of his face. Younghyun’s eyes gleam with unshed tears, a broken smile on his wonderful lips.

Jae isn’t lying on the ground anymore. Wonpil isn’t there playing the piano anymore. It’s only him and Younghyun, facing opposite of each other, in the middle of—

The casino.

Younghyun’s hands are painted red, his face lighted in cold blue. He suddenly breaks down, falling into Jae. Blood stains Jae’s white shirt, something gets stuck on his button, ripping it out.

Younghyun looks up at him with glassy eyes, light slowly fading out of them. A knife sticks out of his chest, between them that goddamn card. Jae screams, pressing Younghyun into him. He wails louder and louder at Younghyun’s lifeless expression, eyes lifeless, no breath saved anymore.

Is this the end? Is this how it will end?

Until death parts them from this life?

“Jae!”

A slap against his face.

“Jae, wake up!”

Another slap against his face, this time harder.

“Wake up!”

Jae wakes with a start, catching his breath. Warm hands steady his shoulders, another breath guiding his to calm down. His ears don’t stop with the constant ringing, white noise making his headache worse with every second.

Hands wander down from his shoulder to his arms, then up to his neck, the friction soothing and still too much. Then, his head falls against something hard, warm and pounding – a heartbeat, steady. His fingers feel it beneath their tips, the white noise subsiding with every beat.

With them, the dreadful pictures in his head disappear. A hollow feeling in chest is the only thing left. Fear has its roots in this hole, growing with the foreboding of numbness that lodges itself into the darkness, filling every inch of his body.

Jae hates the numbness with every fiber of his body. It makes his thoughts dull and gray, a spiral that tumbles down into an endless stream of self-consciousness until it reaches the end stage of self-hatred.

His fingers crumble the shirt beneath them as his hands ball into fists. The tears dry on his cheeks while his eyes fall down slightly, focusing on anything important.

Water flows steady. Undisrupted and calm, a smooth surface mirroring the world above, its inside never to be seen.

Jae heaves his head slowly, his lips brushing against cloth and then skin. He feels the bob of the adam’s apple against them and in an instant his lips latch themselves onto it, a faint kiss.

The air changes to something tense. Easily breakable. Breaths are being hold as Jae moves his lips further up, grazing along the sharp jawline, up until the beginnings of an ear. His teeth catch the lobe, biting cautiously, nibbling.

His hands wander around the chest, down to the hem of the shirt and up along the back. A warm embrace as lips find their way along the cheeks, pressing light kisses against the immaculate skin. Their noses meet when his lips hover against the other’s. He doesn’t dive in. Not yet. Not before his hands have found their destination at the front.

“Jae, what—”

Jae pushes Younghyun down, their breaths being forcefully ripped out of them and suddenly—

Once something disturbs the calmness, be it small or insignificant, the smooth surface of an endless ocean is set in motion. A small stir causes waves and the perfect mirror is destroyed. It doesn’t matter what is seen on the outside, not when everything spills and moves and tries to break out. Suddenly, it matters what can be found inside.

It is no longer a chaste exploration of Younghyun’s body, it’s the fierce claim of the other’s body. Jae wants to take it all in and never let go.

His lips are tightly locked with Younghyun’s. Tongues are involved, licking every expanse of the other’s mouth. Hands aren’t chastely touching; they are tearing at the clothes to make them come undone. Their lips depart when Jae tries to get the shirt off of Younghyun and when he dives in again, Younghyun pushes his hand against Jae’s chest. The question is clearly written in his eyes, his beautiful and expressive eyes.

“I dreamt that I lost you.”

For Jae, this answer is enough to give. For Younghyun, the curious grunt tells Jae it’s not. So, Jae presses his nose against Younghyun’s neck to breath in his scent while his teeth bite down – hard, to mark the younger’s body.

“I hate seeing you die,” he mumbles against Younghyun’s chest, peppering it with small kisses. “I love—”

Two hands frame his face before they pull him up and hungry lips catch his, first soft movements before they get harder and fiercer with every breath. The hands on his face then grab his shirt and tuck it off over his head and—

The meeting of skin against skin feels like coming home.

Hands are skimming over bodies, scratching lightly, sweet caresses at their sides, flicks against pink nubs standing off their chests. It gets too much too fast and it doesn’t even take a second for Jae to come to a decision.

Jae sits up on his knees, then tugs his fingers under the hem of Younghyun’s pants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. He feels along the insides of Younghyun’s legs, his thumb pressing in harder to finally hear that lustful groan tearing out of the younger’s throat.

It’s then that Jae is reminded again of how beautiful Younghyun is.

The room is still blanketed in darkness. Eyes can only see shallow outlines of bodies where the moon shines through curtains and nothing more is revealed in the security of black and gray.

They don’t need to see. Jae wishes he could tell about a life-changing moment where their eyes meet to get a simple and final confirmation, but life isn’t that difficult on them. It’s simple. Younghyun doesn’t say no as he spreads his legs wider in a daring challenge, and Jae’s mind colors in the blanks. Where he can hear the gasps and grunts come from, his mind procures the image of pouty lips opened slightly. Where he can hear the rustle of the bedsheet, pretty blushed skin is painted against the dark blues of his sheets.

The beauty of Younghyun can’t be found in what Jae sees. Yes, his appearance plays a huge part in it, but Younghyun is so much more than that. The beauty in all of that is found in the words that aren’t heard but still spoken.

Whispers of love and adoration can be felt in every fleeting and staying touch. The prayers of hope and longing can be found in every symbiotic movement. The melodies of pure trust and devotion is embedded in every single breath.

When Jae thinks about how beautiful Younghyun is to him, he feels the perfect alignment of their souls, entangled in a deep strand of red.

A loud moan tears through the air when Jae laps at the head of Younghyun’s cock that has been awaiting him eagerly and hard.

It tastes the same, it feels the same. Where Jae has felt nervous before, contemplating on how to start at giving head to someone he hadn’t satisfied like that for years, his confidence grows with every lick and grunt. Younghyun still likes the same things as back then and along the way, taking it all in and out while his tongue presses against the underside, it all becomes muscle memory once again.

It’s easier for Jae then to let his fingers wander down to Younghyun’s entrance. His finger lightly presses against the puckering hole and elicits a deep moan from the younger.

“Do you have—”

Younghyun doesn’t have the time to finish the question when Jae hurries off his dick and flies to his nightstand to get the fresh bottle of lube he had once conveniently found in there. Which, speaking of—

“I don’t have any condoms.”

A sharp breath from Younghyun, a silent second.

“I’m clean.” Jae hears the hesitant pause. “I— I’ve got tested in the hospital. Just in case, y’know?”

“Oh.” Jae swallows. Hard. “Me, too.”

It feels like a small confession. His heart palpitates faster than normal because he knows what exactly is insinuated by that. A small confession of something that they both have already known.

From the moment on when Younghyun got shot, waves have been stirring at the surface of the ocean.

And suddenly, Jae catches a glimpse of light.

In a miniscule second, Jae is back at latching his lips against Younghyun’s, devouring him. His finger, now coated thickly with lube, probes against the younger’s entrance again, circling and pushing until he can press in until his first knuckle, accompanied by a long groan.

Younghyun’s cock twitches against Jae’s belly, a cry for attention that Jae follows easily. His lips find the head again, sucking it in before Jae goes deeper in one movement. Fingers attach to his hair, a hard tuck to urge Jae to move up again.

It’s not long before Jae has Younghyun writhing beneath him, three fingers in and Jae’s lips swollen from sucking on his cock.

“Jae,” Younghyun whines. “Just fuck me already.”

Jae lets go of Younghyun’s cock with a loud blob and frees himself out of his own pants and boxers. Younghyun hugs his legs around Jae’s waist while Jae covers his own dick in lube, hurried and quickly because Younghyun gets impatient.

He lines up his cock with Younghyun’s entrance, a deep breath, before he slowly pushes in—

Where the touch of their skin has felt like home, this is something so much better. Like finding peace within the confines of your home, a blissful state where no thought bothers your mind, the highest state of blissed ignorance.

Younghyun’s legs urge him to push in further which causes Jae to fall over. He catches him with his arms around Younghyun’s face as not to crush the younger with his light weight. Their noses brush against each other, a daring peck against Jae’s lips.

“Move.”

Jae is the one in Younghyun, snatching his hips in slow but deep thrusts. Younghyun is the one lying pliant beneath him, tensing and grunting in pleasure with every pound. It doesn’t matter who is doing what, Younghyun is still the one who holds the reigns.

Younghyun is the one breaking through the surface, his hands reaching for Jae drowning in that darkness.

His wet skin tastes like drops of bottled-up longing, sweat or water Jae doesn’t care, not when his hands find the younger’s and their fingers get tangled into each other. His mouth catches every breath, every moan, so sweet like long awaited salvation.

Younghyun’s finger tense and suddenly, Jae’s world tilts on its axis and everything turns.

It isn’t the fearful sensation of getting the rug swept under your feet. This, the simple movement of Younghyun rolling them over, is everything Jae has craved for so long.

Younghyun rides him better than in old times. In the past, it has been unhurried with a sense of the world slowing down for them, gifting them the endless night in each other’s embraces. The present is unforgiving and brutal, an unwavering threat of losing everything hanging like a knife over their heads. It’s saddled with the desperate need of making this count and the vent-out of bottled up frustration and sexual tension.

Jae’s head falls off the edge of the bed, extending the expanse of his neck where Younghyun’s fingers are skipping along. Younghyun’s movement slows down to something that is simply not enough, not when Jae is so close to reaching the surface.

Fingers that skim become thumbs testing waters. Light pressure against his throat is getting harder. Jae moans loudly when a second thumb joins, then hands circle around his neck with the thumbs carefully probing against his throat.

Jae chokes – literally – at the moans spilling out of his mouth, especially when Younghyun starts riding him again. Jae’s hips meet Younghyun’s with every thrust and the pressure gets harder. So does his breathing and Jae—Jae is—

A loud sob tears through the squeaks of the bed, and Younghyun instantly lets go of his throat.

“Don’t you dare!” Jae cries in turn, grabs for the younger’s arm and pulls his hands back to his neck. A shiver runs through his body when the thumbs press against his throat and pressure is building fast again.

Breathing gets harder and it turns him on so much, he feels his insides clenching and his mind—his mind is blank. Everything is filled with Younghyun, his whole being is devoted to everything the younger does, his every wish is Jae’s command.

When Younghyun’s breath hitches and quickens, Jae’s hand finds his twitching cock. His thumb smears the precum across the head and uses it as lube to jerk him off. When Younghyun tenses, his hole so tight and hot and warm, and Jae can’t breathe properly anymore—

Jae comes with a loud moan and spills his load into Younghyun, air finally filling his lungs with a deep and painful breath again. Younghyun follows not much later, riding out both of their orgasms with slowing down movements.

His head falls over the edge again, hanging off the side and being filled with much needed blood, until Younghyun pulls him up and wraps his arms around him.

Their sweaty bodies stick to each other when they collect their breaths with Younghyun pressing light kisses against his neck.

“I love you,” Younghyun whispers against his skin over and over again as if tattooing it in there. His words burn themselves into Jae’s mind and heart like they did in old times.

Jae catches Younghyun’s head and brings his forehead against his lips, holding it there for a lingering kiss.

“I love you, Younghyunnie.”

He feels a smile forming on the other’s lips against his neck. It’s that sort of smile that makes his eyes crinkle in affection.

It’s beautiful.

Later, after Younghyun cleaned Jae with his shirt and went to the bathroom, Jae soaks in the silence and darkness of the room.

Nothing.

His mind is calm and devoid of any thought. All that devours him is the exhaustion of his body and the tiredness of his mind.

When Younghyun comes out of the bathroom again, Jae has long succumbed to sleep.

The best part of it? When he wakes up in the morning again, Younghyun is curled around him with a peaceful expression on his sleeping face.

And Jae has come to a decision.

It’s time to get his game on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs referenced in this chapter (all by Day6): Better Better, Sing me, 원하니까 (Still), I Loved you and Colors  
> Fun Fact: Colors is the song that inspired the whole imagery and metaphors of this fic.
> 
> Next week: Track 11: I fell for thee, falling in well without realizing it


	11. Track 11: I fell for thee, falling in well without realizing it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Day6 - Warning

What is a good life?

The sun shining down brightly, hot temperatures being cold enough to be bearable, a delicious skewer of Korean BBQ tasting like sweet honey on your tongue? That’s having a good lunch.

Enjoying the fresh air outside after being confined in a small flat, doing nothing for days? That’s having a nice day.

Finally being able to get down to do things and them going the direction they should? That’s a lucky streak.

Waking up in the arms of the man you love with lots of kisses and very satisfying sex?

100 points, that’s living the height of luxury!

Life is good to Jae, who is leaning against a phone booth while he chews on his meat, a baseball cap protecting his black hair from getting too hot and big black sunglasses shielding his identity from prying eyes. His ear is pressed against the receiver of a callbox.

“Hyung! You have to save me!” The man on the other side of the line wails into the phone. “I love him, really, but this! I can’t do it! It’ll kill me!”

Jae chuckles, a deep laugh that comes directly from his chest. It takes off a lot of pressure that is bottled up in there from all the stress and anxiety of the past days.

“We have a free bedroom here if you need to seek shelter.”

The other lets out a frustrated whine. “That’s not funny, hyung!” And yet they both laugh all the same. “Don’t make fun of me. This is a serious matter!”

“I take it as serious as it is.” Jae really does, that’s the reason why he is nearly choking on his skewer. Laughing and eating is never a good combination.

“You’re so mean. What did I do to you? Am I not a good dongsaeng to you?”

“The best,” Jae agrees. “But, Dowoonie, you know Wonpil. He wouldn’t ever try to kill you deliberately.”

“I know. But his seaweed soup is the worst and I don’t know why he always cooks it for us. That guy has no sense of how much salt is enough,” Dowoon wails again.

“It’s a birthday tradition he’s adamant on keeping up and today’s your birthday. Which reminds me, did you get my postcard?”

“Maybe, I haven’t looked through my post today. But don’t try to change the subject!”

Jae heaves a heavy sigh, going for a more serious tone since Dowoon seems to be adamant about Wonpil’s soup disaster. “Eat your soup and tell Wonpil how good it tastes. Invite Jinyoung or Sungjin if things get out of hand. They’re both good at eating that salt bomb.”

“Only Younghyun-hyung is able to eat it without grimacing.”

“True, bro.”

“How is Younghyun-hyung, by the way?”

Ah, the question that Jae has dodged for the last ten minutes by asking about the seaweed soup. He can’t prevent a smile growing brightly on his face or the butterflies erupting in his belly. At least, Dowoon doesn’t get to see how Jae blushes at the thought of how Younghyun had bid his goodbye to Jae an hour ago.

Spoiler: Younghyun hadn’t been wearing anything after Jae was finished with him.

“He’s—uhm—” Jae clears his throat and changes ear. “He’s good. Very good. Pretty good.”

Silence greets him for a few seconds from the other line before Dowoon’s suddenly shouting,

“Wonpil-hyung! Jae-hyung finally killed Younghyun-hyung!”

“He did what?!" Wonpil screeches from somewhere far away.

“I did no such thing!” Jae cries in return. A woman throws him a nasty glare. “I did no such thing,” Jae repeats, quieter but firmer.

“What was Jae doing—”

“Hyung was stalling and he only stalls when he—”

“I have nothing to hide!”

“Oh my god,” Wonpil suddenly breathes, voice getting louder as Jae hears steps nearing. “Gimme that phone!” Jae groans in annoyance. Wonpil is stubborn once he gets a sniff on something suspicious, clearly something Jae doesn’t need right now. “You two finally hooked up, right? Right?!”

Dowoon is clearly choking on something just as Jae sputters at the direct confrontation (especially because Wonpil hit it spot on).

“Thank god, all that sexual tension finally gone!” Jae wouldn’t say that, not that it’s any of Wonpil’s business. “Ah, hyung, you have to tell me everything!”

“No!”

“I agree with hyung,” Dowoon pipes in. “That’s tmi.”

“Then go away. Your soup’s waiting in the kitchen.”

“I’m not telling you anything. I’m in a park with lots of children, you pervert.”

“How often?”

“No!”

“Please.”

“No!”

“Hyung~”

“I said no!”

“Hyungie! Please!”

“I guess over five.”

“Five?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?”

“Jesus Christ,” Jae mutters under his breath while he hits his head against the booth. “More than eight. I don’t know, I’m not counting.”

Wonpil hums in thought. As if that’s an important information to consider. What the hell does Wonpil want to do with it?

“I guess you’re topping, right? Since you’re uneasy with bottoming—”

What the heck? “Why do you want to know?”

“Because,” Wonpil starts with some emotion in his voice that makes Jae uneasy, “That’s what normal people talk about, right?”

Oh.

Typical Wonpil who always knows what is best.

This floors Jae instantly. He really likes the way his life is going now because it seems to be so normal. He’s having a nice chat with a good friend over the phone because it’s his birthday today and the other friend asks him out about his love life. Jae isn’t thinking about the next drug deal, hasn’t heard anything about it since he left Seoul, and Dowoon hadn’t talked anything about business. This is as normal as it can get for Jae, ignoring the death threat lurking in every shadow.

The problem is that Jae has long accepted that normal isn’t a state that he will ever acquire again. No, he even will be back on his way to do things after he finishes the phone call. Maybe now is a good time to start with said things.

“Can I ask you something?”

Wonpil answers him a few seconds later. “Let me just—” He hears some shuffling over the line, then a door closing and Wonpil huffing into the phone. “Okay, I’m alone now. What is it?”

Jae looks around the park. Only children with their mothers are in earshot. He still cradles the receiver nearer to his face and turns more towards the booth.

“Years ago before you joined Six, did Sungjin hire you—”

“To kill Younghyun’s father?”

Wonpil doesn’t sound mad. Just… blank. It’s terrifying, even more so over the phone. Jae swallows heavily.

“Yeah. Younghyun told me about it. But he isn’t really sure about it.”

The younger hums. “Well, Sungjin had a job for me and I didn’t ask a thing. You know how it goes.”

“But why? Younghyun’s father was a big fish. You could have ruined your life.”

“Come on.” Wonpil huffs a dry laugh. “You know why. We’ve talked about this. I became an assassin because I needed the money for my mother. When she died, I was left by myself and Sungjin saved my life. This job was my way of showing him my gratitude.”

“And you loved Sungjin.”

“I did. A long time ago.” Wonpil heaves a heavy sigh. “Look, if this is you questioning where my loyalty lies—”

“I’m not. I don’t want you to betray Sungjin or something like that,” Jae hastily corrects him.

“You’re quite dumb for being an ace at reading people. You know to whom we all are loyal to. But rest assured, if it comes down to it, I’ll follow your lead because I trust you. Because I know where your loyalty lies.”

“Honestly?” It’s time to dare something. To give Wonpil something back after he gave him something dearly treasured. “My loyalty doesn’t lie with Sungjin.”

What surprises Jae the most is the answer he receives from Wonpil. “Mine doesn’t as well. That’s what love does with us.”

Has Jae ever expressed how much he loves Wonpil? The younger, no matter how evil or indifferent he can be, always knows what to say. Jae is an open book to him, an annoying fact that is soothing at the same time. It’s the same with Younghyun, where words aren’t needed at all to get what the other is feeling.

“What is the other question?”

Back to business. That, Jae can do.

Last night, Jae didn’t sleep a wink. The evening progressed as planned. Younghyun gets sleepy after dinner and likes to indulge in watching mindless Korean dramas on TV while clinging to Jae. Once the sleepy TV marathon had turned into a heated make-out session, Jae proceeded to bring Younghyun into bed and that included Jae getting down on Younghyun and letting the younger ride him afterwards. Younghyun had spent so much energy that he fell asleep directly after washing up.

That’s when Jae got up again, the phone he had bought from Minho’s and a map of Goyang and Gimpo in his hands. His phone is full of files he downloaded from his cloud (courtesy of Johnny), surveillance footage of his apartment, Dowoon’s little club and the YoungK were running on his phone for the whole night while he marked some places on the map and connected them to the culprits of the assaults.

At the end of the night, Jae had come to a few conclusions:

  * The captain who sunk Wonpil’s shipment lived close to the flat they are currently staying in,
  * Chan and Younghyun are really good friends by how frequently his underling visits the casino owner,
  * Namjoon’s little spy in the casino is bad at his job because Felix is watching him like a hawk as soon as he is nearby,
  * he never wants to see a passionate make-out session between Wonpil and Dowoon against the counter ever again,
  * the attempted assassination of Dowoon and him went too smoothly for some people who haven’t been in the club ever before,
  * Jae is apparently a magnet because Younghyun’s eyes always attach to his form a soon as he enters the casino.



Going through the other spare information about the culprits, Jae decides that paying the flat of the late ship captain is worth a try.

The only thing that is bugging him since last night—

“Can you do me a favor and pay my apartment a visit?”

“Why?” Wonpil asks confused.

“I need you to check something for me.” When Wonpil agrees to do so, Jae continues. “My seat at the window with the little table, can you take a closer look to it?”

“Can do, boss.”

Jae was studiously watching the security footage of his own place. Nothing was out of place, not even Namjoon’s surprise visit. The only odd thing? The footage cuts off at the same time every day, three o’clock in the morning. Plus, from time to time, one person walks over to this chair and—black screen.

That Younghyun is the person doesn’t bug Jae as much as his curiosity of what he will find there.

~~~

Ladies and gentlemen, one big round of applause because Jae still has game.

He only had to throw one seductive gaze after another to the janitor and the neighbor and bam, he got into the flat of that late ship’s captain that easy.

The place is a mess, which is not surprising at all since Wonpil had probably swept it thoroughly and many other people, too. No stone was left unturned in their search for any clues as to whom may had hired him.

It’s a one room apartment with a small bed, TV and little cooking niche, nothing else. The captain was a poor man when he got the suicide mission, no direct family or other was left behind. A sad life, at first glance.

People aren’t nobodies. They have reasons to isolate themselves from society, and Jae is here to find out exactly why.

He himself looks at every nook and cranny, just to come up with simply nothing. Wonpil is good at what he is doing, Jae knows, he is only hoping to find anything Wonpil didn’t. A small little detail that is overseen if you don’t look close enough.

What are obvious places to hide things that aren’t obvious at all? No hole in the wall, no things glued under furniture, secret boxes in the ceilings or such.

Jae sits down in a chair and looks out of the window. The view is awful, another building is obscuring his sight. There is nothing to see over there, the curtains drawn to protect the resident from prying eyes.

It’s just then that something catches Jae’s eye. He walks over to the window and opens it, bending down to look at what is beneath the window. Just as he thought, a small boxy cove that has no place to be under such window. Jae looks left and right and sees them there either, looks into the windows on the other side that serve as a mirror and sees something that shouldn’t be there.

He reaches out to feel and—bingo. There’s something sticking under his window.

Jae pulls it out and gets something wrapped in plastic. A key. What for?

It would be funny if he’s in a drama or better, an American crime series because then he would follow the lead to a warehouse at the docks and find the answer to everything.

Life isn’t a TV-series, though, and Jae has no idea what the key is for. He stores it safely in his pocket and looks around the room again, hopefully finding another clue.

Maybe he should go to his next point on his list. Visit the apartment complex near the Gimpo-bridge, another hint he got from Johnny.

He thanks god for Younghyun allowing him to take the car (and for not asking him any questions as to what Jae is up to). The drive doesn’t take him long and he arrives safely at the apartment complex. Johnny has assured him that his men did a sweep through the apartments before, but maybe Jae finds something here as well.

The state of the apartment complex is worse than the one before. The walls show signs of dirt and something Jae isn’t too keen on touching. The floor is broken at some parts and a frayed carpet doesn’t hide anything anymore. The higher he gets up the stairwells, the worse things get. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if he sees a rat running around.

He reaches the empty apartment at the second last floor. The door stands slightly ajar with the lock being broken. Someone was here, but then again, this is a spot of interest.

Jae’s hand reaches to his back as he cautiously ventures into the hallway, the gun tucked safely into his pants soothing his nerves. The open window in the living room creeks when it moves by the soft breeze coming in, and Jae jumps at the sudden noise.

Minutes pass as Jae assesses the situation and concludes that yes, he is indeed alone here. And minutes of thoroughly searching the flat give him nothing at all. The flat is clean. Old and run-down but clean. As if no person has ever been here before.

Honestly though, Jae doesn’t have this much luck to find anything here. The assassins had been trained well considering how professional they worked. So surely, they know how to stay under the radar. It’s even a miracle that Johnny was able to find this address.

So far, Jae came up with nothing except for a key that opens something he doesn’t know. He takes the key and holds it into the light, hoping to catch anything.

The metal isn’t shiny anymore. It’s an old key and by being out in the open for months, the metal took on a greenish color. A small number is written on it. A key with a number. A small key with a number. It can’t be a key to an apartment or room since most of them operate on keypads. It could be the key to open a box hidden somewhere.

A box.

There are a lot of boxes. Woody boxes. Sandboxes. Treasure chests. A safe? What kind of box has a number?

A sudden beep cuts through his deep thinking. Jae pulls out his phone to check his message. An unknown number texting him a simple ‘Thank you’ with a hoard of smileys.

Ah, right.

He gave Wonpil his secret number just in case (because other than Younghyun Wonpil can’t make him a head shorter once he realizes that Jae is endangering himself by owning a traceable phone) and Dowoon probably texted him to thank him for the post card Jae had sent him a few days before.

Good old post services are still reliable even in this time and age.

Which reminds Jae of, one of the assassins was a postman from Ilsan. Maybe he can pay the post station a visit and check out the place. Get to know a co-worker of that man and then have a nice long talk with them.

On a side-note, once Jae is back in Seoul, he has to go through his letters. Not many people are writing him, but a few customers insist on writing him, maybe for old time’s sake or some shit. He should probably walk down to the post station and check his postbox in case someone sent him—

Wait.

Postbox.

Key.

Jae might be a genius.

~~~

Jae sat on the floor, drenched in rain, his whole figure trembling awfully while his arms hugged his legs dearly to his chest.

Thunder rumbled outside, lighting struck. The rain hit noisily the windows, creating a heavy and tense rhythm.

The bathroom floor was slippery from all the water running down from Jae’s body. Someone shuffled around him cautiously since the darkness made it hard to see the wet patches on the floor.

The towel slung around his shoulders slowly slipped off from all the trembling, especially when a loud sob teared through his body.

Jae’s mind was in scrambles, too overwhelmed to process the happenings of the evening. Only pictures came up in his mind, blurred though. (Even to this day Jae still doesn’t know what exactly occurred on that night. No one could tell him a thing since he had been alone the whole evening, so Jae is left in wonder.)

“Let me see your hands,” a kind voice asked him. Jae, however, couldn’t hear him through his hands pressed tightly against his ears.

The shaking wouldn’t stop. Jae didn’t know where it came from. Was he shivering from the coldness clinging to him like his wet clothes? Or were his loud sobs the cause of the tremors in his limbs? Perhaps it was the fear creeping along his spine as all he could see was blood.

That same blood was washed away when he had laid awake on the street, staring up to the gray sky on a rainy day in LA. Blood seeped into his shirt and down to the asphalt, washed away by the pouring from the sky. Now the blood flowed onto the yellowish tiles, deep red turning to bright orange from all the water.

Blood ran down from his hands, down to his arms and sleeves. His face didn’t look any better with streaks running from his eyebrows down to his chin.

Jae looked like a mess. He was a mess.

“Please.”

He could see the figure through the haze of his eyes. Sammy’s kind smile no longer bright, instead dimmed and worried. That was the smile of a man who was on the verge of letting the nerves getting the better of him but is still keeping it together for his hurting and crying friend on the bathroom floor.

He pried gently Jae’s hands off his ears and loosened the hold of his fingers, one after another. His fingers swept over the cuts in Jae’s palms before he dabs gently a soaked cotton onto them. It burnt.

One wound after another, Sammy took care of all of them, all while he dried the tears running down from Jae’s eyes, no matter how many more followed.

“What happened, Jae?”

Jae only shook his head. He wasn’t ready to face this demon nor will he ever be. Sammy was innocent. He should stay like that.

“Just— gangs. They saw me and…” Jae sounded hoarse. As if he was crying for hours by now.

(He probably was.)

Sammy, as he told him later that day, thought Jae was mugged by a street gang.

Brian knew better.

Because it was Brian’s fault in a way.

Jae didn’t know what happened. But when he leaned into Sammy’s warm arms, his heart was longing for his boyfriend.

It should have been an easy job. Brian had to deliver some drugs to the street gang, just to prove that he was serious about a future partnership. Except that Brian’s professor made him stay longer because Brian forgot about some homework, and Jae offered him to do the delivery.

It should be an easy job, right? Jae had to talk to people and he loved to argue, that’s the reason why he tried to become a politician. So, talking to a small street gang shouldn’t be too hard.

Brian had his doubts about it. He claimed that it was dangerous and that Jae shouldn’t go there, especially not alone. Gangs were violent, corrupted the good and murdered people; Jae only laughed about that cliched picture that Brian tried to paint.

It wasn’t an easy job. Jae got there, drugs in tow and—

Really, somewhere things went wrong and suddenly he laid bleeding in a street. And when he called Younghyun—

At least he had Sammy. Good old Sammy who would always take care of him other than Brian who would hang up with a simple ‘ _Told you_ ’.

The whole night long that Jae had spent in Sammy’s arm, he was thinking about the fucked-up situation. How betrayed he felt. How, for the first time ever, Brian showed him a cold side that Jae hadn’t known existed. Now, Jae knew better.

How do people say it?

Fool me once, shame on you. Right?

~~~

Not many people are visiting the post office in the middle of the day. There is only one counter, no employee standing behind it. A woman is pressing the button to call for him. Her patience is running thin. Other than her, a lone man occupies space inside. Said man is currently writing something on a letter, licks a stamp. He throws Jae a curt glance before he walks out of the shop, as if Jae is the shady man entering the shop. Maybe because he wears a cap, sunglasses and a face mask to protect his identity. Hopefully the man concludes that he is an idol and not a man on the run.

Over the woman’s head, who is still ringing the bell, a sign shows the way to the postboxes.

Jae pushes the cap further into his face and walks through the shop, sneaky and trying not make a sound. The employee hasn’t arrived yet and Jae uses the chance. He slips behind the door to the postboxes and walks down, checking the numbers written on the doors.

If he is lucky, he’ll find every answer in a box. Luck is what he needs, not what he has. Assassins aren’t dumb. They don’t store information at one place, they don’t store them at all. Usually if they work alone, they hide information scarcely and then only those that they can’t get rid of. If they don’t work independently, someone else hides it for them. Just like Jae does it for Wonpil, even though the hitman barely has given him anything except for many different identities that are free to use for Jae as well.

Back to the topic at hand—

Jae’s fingers skim the metal plates with numbers engraved on them. It gets darker with every step he takes further into the room. The light flickers. A rundown office, the perfect hiding place for a postman with a double life, perfect for dead drops. No cameras, no witnesses.

Jae stops when he finds the locker he is searching for. He looks around to check if the room is really empty before he takes the key out of his pocket. He pushes it in and—

A perfect fit.

The lock creaks when he turns the key, a click and it’s open. Slowly the contents are revealed in a rather anticlimactic event. Jae has hoped for more, but this has to do. The locker is nearly empty except for a heavy stack of money (that Jae sneakily puts into his own pocket) and an envelope.

His curiosity is piqued. Jae presses his finger under the seal and rips it open. He chuckles when his fingers draw out the content.

Papers. Who would have thought? He turns them around and—

Bingo. This is good. Better than anything his pessimistic side could have hoped for.

The locker seems to be the assassin’s emergency stash. A pile of money and a variety of fake identities were hidden behind the metal doors. Jae flies over the papers; one name after another follows. Those are a lot of identities for just one man. No pictures are attached to the forms. An interesting finding that Jae has made but so far, nothing catches his eye.

He is hoping for a clue that he can interpret without the help of at least three other people. Something incriminating that points directly at the criminal in his case. The great mastermind who is making Jae’s life very bad for months.

That is until he gets to the last page.

There he sees a name that he has heard before. It puts a smile on his face. It’s like a puzzle where this is the missing one piece he needed to solve said puzzle. Only the details are left for him to figure out.

_Lee Hyunyeong._

Written on here are the many identities of Lee Hyunyeong, a criminal mastermind that Jae wants to see bleeding at his feet. Those names just got so much more meaning. He needs to send pictures of them to Wonpil or Johnny and let them investigate further.

Jae looks into the locker again, sees nothing and closes it, the money safely stored in his pocket and the envelope in his hand. He straightens the papers again, checks the envelope if it’s empty – a good idea since there is a single piece of paper that he has missed before.

Someone has written an address on it. Jae knows this address.

Just when he thought that things finally get clearer, he now has so many more questions than answers.

Jae walks out of the hallway into the main room of the shop. The woman has indeed left the shop, but now there is an employee standing at the counter. A young boy scrolls bored through his phone, his lips pouting and posture slumped over. A pretty face with a mole under his left eye.

Jae approaches him, his phone already in his hand with a mugshot of the postman.

“Excuse me,” Jae starts, then looks at the name tag. “Hyunjin-ssi?”

The young boy, Hyunjin, looks up from his phone with half lidded eyes. The epitome of bored by his job. “How can I help you, sir?”

At least he has manners.

Jae holds up the phone with the mugshot and Hyunjin’s eyes immediately clutch onto it – only to quickly pull away as soon as he got a look at it. Interesting.

“Do you know this man?”

Hyunjin straightens his posture -- he is surprisingly taller than Jae has anticipated. The other’s earring is tingling, attracting Jae’s attention like a magnet, especially when Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Nope,” he plops the ‘p’. “Never seen him before.”

The earring hits against Hyunjin’s turtleneck. Something peeks out from under the cloth. Jae still doesn’t miss the quick lick over lips.

“How long have you been working here?”

The other’s eyebrows draw down to the middle. Hyunjin is suspicious, a good trait for someone who is dealing with suspicious people.

“Apparently not long enough to know this man.”

Jae likes him. Hyunjin has already proven him that he has brain and isn’t as manipulative as the normal guy. He isn’t a good liar, though. Jae knows he knows the man, but that is something that could be taught to him. Hyunjin would be a good addition to Felix. Only one problem—

“Show me your gang tattoo.” Hyunjin startles back at Jae’s blunt request. Especially when Jae points towards his neck. “It takes one to recognize one.”

“I’m not in a gang.”

“And you’re not good enough at lying,” Jae snorts. “Look. That guy?” He holds up his phone again. “He tried to kill my friend and me. I just want to know who hired him, okay? Make it easy for the both of us before I drag you out of here and make you talk.”

Oh. He really likes the boy. Instead of cowering down and pleading for mercy, his posture straightens more and his face melts into something dangerous. A pretty face that can kill, as if he was made to be a mobster. Such an unfortunate soul.

“Try me,” he challenges him with his chin raised.

A smile breaks out on Jae’s face. “You know what? How about you tell me how much money you get from your boss and I will double it.”

Hyunjin’s eye double in size from sheer disbelief. “W-What?”

“Work for me.”

Silent seconds pass before Hyunjin shakes his head. “No money in the world—”

“You guys realize that loyalty will be the death of you?”

Hyunjin’s jaw tenses when Jae lets the words fall. Hyunjin is young. Being young brings a certain innocence and naivety that Jae wishes so much for the younger to have any longer. But when Hyunjin speaks further, Jae realizes all hope is already lost on him.

“This life is the death of us. It doesn’t matter if we’re loyal or not, it only shows the honor with which we live. Loyalty is something a mobster should find pride and comfort in, don’t you think, old hag?”

“Old hag?” Jae splutters. “I ain’t old nor a woman, dude!”

“Could have fooled me with that hat and face mask.”

“What the hell is your standard of old hags?!”

“Your point, old hag?” Hyunjin emphasizes the last part.

Maybe he shouldn’t let him work with Felix. They would be the cause for so many headaches and Jae already has more of them than he wants to.

“Work for me. I can provide for you much better than your boss here. You wouldn’t be working in a post office but in a casino. We have a cute boy there that you would like.”

Hyunjin cockily raises an eyebrow. “Do I look gay or why would I care about that?”

“Do I look like I care?”

The younger heaves a heavy sigh. “Just—leave already. I won’t talk about that man—” Ha, Jae knew that he knows him— “And I don’t want to work for you. I’m happy enough with Kang-nim as my boss.”

Wait.

What did he say?

Jae could be wrong. There are many men named Kang in Korea. Hell, even in the whole world. It doesn’t mean anything.

Doesn’t change though that Jae tries it at least.

“Aw man, why didn’t you tell me I compete against the Kang Younghyun?"

Hyunjin frowns at him. “I don’t know who that is.”

Too bad. Like Jae has said before—Hyunjin isn’t a good liar.

So, when Jae leaves the shop with a smile, it’s only to hide the tension in his body. Jae got his answer, not the one he was searching for but the one for questions he wasn’t asking in the first place.

~~~

When Jae enters the flat, a waft of cooked rice, hot spices and sweet honey lure him all the way to the kitchen. Evening is just arriving, and the lights are flicked on when the sky clouds up. Music plays through the small box on the counter and Jae smiles when Younghyun sings along to the happy-go pop song while his hips and feet dance along the quick rhythm.

Younghyun looks much younger than he is with his flat hair flopping against his forehead, a face left with no worries at all, such innocent gestures with the pliers in his hands. The cooking makes Jae’s mouth water and his stomach grumbling in hunger. He hasn’t eaten anything except for those skewers.

When Younghyun finally notices Jae standing in the door, he beams instantly at him. “You’re back.”

Jae nods, that same stupid smile breaking out on his face. “That I am.”

They stare at each other without anyone talking. Jae feels at home again, back in that small little bubble where no one can harm them in any way.

Sitting at the table with Younghyun, talking about the meaningless things in life (is _Die Hard_ a Christmas movie or not?) (Jae’s totally right, that movie is a Christmas movie, full stop. It’s fucking Christmas in there).

The address sits heavy in his pockets. The argument with Hyunjin doesn’t vanish from his mind.

Not when Younghyun is cuddling into his side while they watch their favorite variety show. Not when cuddles turn into a small make-out session. Not when he talks about pointless things again because anxiety makes him too jittery for keeping still for long.

“I called Dowoon today.” Younghyun smiles up to him to encourage him further. “They’re good. He was complaining about that seaweed soup the whole time.”

Younghyun nuzzles his nose into Jae’s neck, pressing a lingering kiss on the skin there. “Wonpil cooks them out of love. Dowoonie should stop whining and eat it.”

“Told him the same. That soup is horrible, Dowoon’s right, but Wonpil tries hard and that counts, y’know?”

But when Jae turns his head around, he catches the light furrow of Younghyun’s brow before he smiles again, nothing amiss. Strange.

“Hyung?” Younghyun sounds hesitant. Jae hums. “Do you…” He starts fiddling with Jae’s fingers, prying them away from each other. “Do you love Wonpil?”

Jae turns his head to kiss Younghyun’s temple in a comforting gesture. “Why do you ask?”

“Yeah, well, I want this—” He gestures his finger between Jae and himself. “—I want this to work. Us. Whatever this is, I want it so much. And if you’re in love with Wonpil, it won’t work.”

Younghyun sounds desperate. It takes Jae aback at how intense his eyes look at him, how desperate he seems to be.

“Well, I can’t deny that I feel something for him. We’d had an affair for years and at one point, you catch feelings. But—”

He wants to say that it doesn’t matter. That it’s not the same. Being with Wonpil was a comfort zone for Jae. Wonpil was there for Jae, still is, no matter how down he feels. Wonpil picked him off the street, cared for his wounds, tended to his scars. A part of Jae loves Wonpil for it, really loves him for it.

At the same time, they both had always known that this affair didn’t have a future. Wonpil was in love with Sungjin back then and now has fallen for someone else; Jae all the while was in love with the idea of the other man. Of Younghyun. It had tainted their relationship over years to the point that it never was such—a relationship. It’s only a bond between two man finding comfort in each other by finding something akin to love.

This wasn’t a thing for eternity. It’s a sober thought looking back at it and yet, Jae is grateful for every touch and kiss. He would be long dead without it.

It breaks his heart when he sees Younghyun’s fallen face.

“But,” Jae starts again, only this time firmer than before. “You are so much more than that, Younghyunnie. You are my light, guiding me through dark times. I love you. I love you so much, I would drown in a sea that swallowed the stars, just to have you color my heart.”

A shy smile dispels the frown on Younghyun’s face, blooming like a flower seeking for the sun. “You found my lyrics, too?”

“You weren’t hiding them well. Who hides things under their bed anymore? What are you, twelve?”

“Touché.”

A flower in a field of bright colors, painting the darkness just a tad bit brighter. Blooming in the wafts of spring air, the water doesn’t feel that pressuring anymore.

“I love you, Jaehyung.”

Jae takes Younghyun’s face between his hands softly and brings him close to his own. Their foreheads touch when Jae looks deeply into those dark brown eyes, golden freckles glinting around the black irises. So beautiful.

“I love you, Younghyun.”

Where the touch of their kiss was hesitant at first, it’s now something so familiar yet still exciting feeling. It never was fireworks going off behind eyes, lighting up darkness with the brightest colors; it’s the knowledge that there is someone holding onto you, sharing their breath even during the darkest times.

When their tongues meet, breaths get stolen. When their skin touches, breath is being lost in the darkness.

Jae wants to kiss every spot he can reach. He wants to taste every inch that is Younghyun. Claim him for the world to know to whom he belongs to. That Jae is no lost soul wandering around aimlessly. Because he isn’t alone at all.

Lost together.

Jae chases every breath, every moan, enjoys the hands pressing on his throat. Being in Younghyun is being home; at home it’s okay to stop breathing for a moment. It makes the moment when everything peaks just so much better.

When their love reaches its climax, the deep inhale fills his every sense with such sweetness, addicting to a degree that Jae never wants to stop chasing it. Nothing feels as good as being with Younghyun, especially not when the younger rests in his arms, his head lying on his chest. Their sweaty bodies protected by the blanket thrown over them, warm and secure.

Younghyun’s finger draws patterns on Jae’s chest, his eyes half lidded in exhaustion.

“I could stay like this forever,” Younghyun murmurs sleepily into his chest, rubbing his nose against skin.

Jae’s fingers find their way into Younghyun’s hair, brushing through it. “It feels quite like a dream, huh?”

Fingers stop drawing patterns on his skin, instead an arm is thrown completely around Jae and Younghyun presses further into him.

When Younghyun speaks up again, Jae’s heart misses a beat before it papillates hard against his chest again.

“Run away with me.”

Shouldn’t those words be sweet honey to his ears? Hasn’t he longed to finally hear them for so long?

Why does his heart sink at the thought of Younghyun running away? He was the one who had suggested it in the first place. Sure, Jae wasn’t part of Six back then and they were still in LA, but it was Jae who had pressed kisses into the other’s skin in pleads of leaving this life behind.

What was is that Younghyun had answered?

“I would follow you to the end of the world if I could. But I can’t.”

They are both stuck in this world where the only way to escape is death. They are in too deep, there is too much to lose if they go now. Jae has something to do before, just one thing and then, just then, he and Younghyun can run away from everything.

Just the two of them against an ocean of darkness.

When Younghyun doesn’t answer, Jae notices the evened-out breath and light snores. He smiles warmly at the sleeping man on his chest, before it makes place for a light frown.

The address is still in his pants and the clock is ticking away. Jae needs time he doesn’t have.

So, he pries himself away from Younghyun and slips into his clothes.

He can’t run away with Younghyun. Not when so many people are chasing them. Not when so many people are waiting for them. Not when Jae is holding an address between his fingers that fill his body with so much dread.

Amidst the night, when it starts raining lightly, Jae leaves the flat with a heavy heart and a last look at the sleeping figure in their bed.

~~~

Sungjin told him it’s an easy job. Jae didn’t have to speak much Korean, just the usual that Wonpil was practicing with him. Communicating in Korean was still hard for Jae even after living in Seoul for a few months now.

Wonpil told him it’s not as easy as Sungjin might had told him it was, but he was confident that Jae could do it. It was only a small delivery job with a not-so-important but still important costumer who had just ordered a batch of cocaine. Jae only had to go in, make the deal and go out, nothing more. Brian would be by his side the whole time and Wonpil positioned around the block waiting for them.

Even Dowoon told him that no matter how hard it might seem to Jae he could do it. The customer wasn’t very bright in his head, so he wouldn’t notice that Sungjin was trying to pull him over the barrel. Easy peasy, right?

Brian, though, was skeptical from the beginning. He told Jae that this mission would go awry as soon as Jae set a foot into the building because _come on Jae, who the fuck goes willingly into an abandoned building in a dark side street_?

Jae apparently.

And as soon as Jae had set a foot into the building, that man was smiling at him, his overwhelmingly high number of lackeys mimicked him.

A small interjection: Jae wasn’t dumb. He couldn’t speak Korean well but reading people’s mimics had always been easy for him. It’s a universal language that you either can or cannot read.

And so, something uneasy settled in his stomach because customer man and his lackeys’ smiles had a certain edge to them that Jae didn’t like. At all.

Brian was walking a few steps behind him, his hands resting behind his back, his face full of disinterest and boredom.

At first, everything seemed to be fine, even with that edge of something lingering over his head. But then, customer man started talking as if life depended on it and—you know the drill. Jae was lost because he couldn’t understand a word of the used satoori and when he turned to Brian to ask for help, he was suddenly gone.

The next few things happened fast.

That night, it was raining in Seoul. Clouds made the sky as gray as Jae’s life with the colors bleeding out of it. The streets were drenched in rainwater, cold since winter was around the corner. The shady side street was devoid of any life except for Jae, whose blood tainted the gray asphalt a blurry red. Not even his own blood could paint the city in any other color than gray. Weak and pathetic, being looked down by the skyscrapers of the city.

Customer man knew that Sungjin tried to get the better deal. He knew about it before Jae had arrived there and this, Jae thought, was what he called a warning. A threat for Sungjin to never try something like that ever again. Customer man took all the money and drugs and then left. His lackeys, though, didn’t.

They only took out their fists and heels, kicking and punching everywhere because Jae was only a scrawny scared child who couldn’t use the unloaded gun hidden in his pocket. Now he only laid on the street, bleeding through his clothes because one man had been nice enough to take out his knife and put it into Jae’s back for a nice reminder.

The rain was soothing. It hid his blood, it hid his tears, it washed away the last bit of color that was in Jae’s life.

His wounds weren’t hurting him much. The stitch maybe even more, but even that couldn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart.

Betrayal of the worst.

Brian wasn’t there when Jae needed him the most. Brian wasn’t there at all. Jae had many theories as to why, but he didn’t want to believe in them. Brian wouldn’t do that. He loved him, right? He left him either way.

Why?

Why was Jae bleeding on a street again? After all he had gone through, after he had given the younger all of his trust and hurt, fuck, he gave him his whole life and all Brian did was to throw it into a shady side street on a rainy and cold night.

They both had entered that place fully knowing how it would end, only for Jae to be conned by the man he loved the most.

Jae fletched his teeth, something ugly rising in his chest. Was that all he meant to Brian? Wasn’t he good enough? Bad enough? He should have listened to his hunch. Brian had long abandoned him, even before they went to Seoul. He should have known better.

That ugly feeling in his chest grew bigger until he couldn’t hold it in anymore. So, he let it out in one piercing scream full of pain and desperation that turned into a loud, pathetic sob.

Jae had promised something himself that night. Two little things.

It took only a few minutes until someone came running down the street, his steps echoing off the walls surrounding the street. That person fell down to their knees, shoving Jae over to get that knife out of his body.

First, Jae promised himself that he would never ever let the city look down on him again. Jae wouldn’t be conned ever again, not by a dumb mobster nor by his own partner. Jae would become a master of people and mind, learning to read and manipulate.

That person—Wonpil as Jae could identify him now—put pressure onto the wound and Jae felt like dying. The blackness surrounded his consciousness as if Jae was dipping into an ocean of black, drowning in the rain and losing himself in it.

The second promise Jae made himself was that he would show Brian that Jae was so much more than that. That he could be better in this life than Brian could ever be. He would achieve everything Brian wanted—become that right-hand Brian tried to be. He would show Brian that Jae had what it takes to be a true mobster.

He would never forgive Brian for anything he did to him.

And the darkness took everything in him as Jae’s mind slipped into unconsciousness.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

~~~

The shop owner doesn’t look too happy to see Jae standing in front of his shop, drenched in rain. Jae, too, isn’t too happy to see Minho during the night because of a note in an assassin’s locker that leads to here.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? It’s the middle of the night.”

Minho’s hair is ruffled from sleep, his eyes show signs of deep-set rings beneath. It doesn’t help that he is deeply frowning at Jae. Minho looks as if risen from death. His eyebrows rise high when he hears the click of a gun’s security getting loose, not impressed by Jae’s blank face.

“Let’s talk.”

Of course the shop owns a barely lit backroom with only a table and two chairs as its sole furniture, what did Jae expect? No windows, only one entrance, no chance of being overheard by uninvited listeners. This room is the wet dream of every cliched mobster. Not surprising, though, given that Minho is involved with the local gang. Or was.

(Jae isn’t too keen on going to the ground of Younghyun’s father being the leader of a local gang. Still, he’s sure that this part of Ilsan isn’t part of their mob’s purview, which makes it more suspicious than interesting.)

Minho sits calmly in one of the chairs that is facing the door, as if he is in charge of the situation and still not bothered by the gun in Jae’s hand. His lips quirk up in a smirk and not a friendly smile that reaches his eyes. At least he is aware of the seriousness of this situation.

Jae does him a favor and takes the other chair (even though rule number one is to never let his back face the door). He sets down the gun in front of him with the barrel still aiming at Minho. No party at this table is too fazed by the situation, only a certain tension lining their shoulders.

“What is it that you want to talk about, Jae-ssi?” Minho asks with a fake-friendly tone.

Jae eyes the younger, contemplating the situation before he speaks. “How much do you know about business in Seoul?”

Minho shrugs his shoulders. “Only what the streets are whispering to me.”

This confirms Jae’s suspicions of Minho still being involved in gang life somehow. His fingers grab a non-existent corn from the table, rubbing it between his fingers.

“And what is it that the streets are whispering about?”

Seoul is talking. Here, streets are whispering.

“Something big will be happening soon.” Minho leans back in his chair, cocking his head. “But I guess, you are not here to talk about the kings butting heads in Seoul.”

“No.” Jae shakes his head. “No, I’m not.” He flings the corn away, tipping against the weapon. Just to get Minho’s attention on it. “I’m more concerned about what is happening right under my nose.”

“And what—” Minho leans forward, fire in his eyes challenging Jae. “—is happening under your nose?”

Jae snorts. “We both know what. I was hoping you could enlighten me on some technicalities.”

“Can’t tell you about technicalities if I don’t know what the topic’s here.”

“Lee Hyunyeong.”

“Never heard of him before.” That answer came too fast. “Is that all?” Now he’s plainly rude.

Jae shakes his head. His fingers clamp around the handle, aiming the gun towards Minho’s chest. At least now the younger looks slightly taken aback.

“I have a theory, you know?” Jae starts calmly while his stomach falls. Something about sorting through his head to connect the dots makes it hard to stay calm at the revelations it procures. “To be honest, those theories don’t look too good for you. And neither do they for your buddy from the post office.”

“Who—”

“Hyunjin, right?” Minho’s jaw clenches. Jackpot. “Hyunjin’s a good liar, but not good enough for me. And somehow I got the feeling that someone here is playing me hard.” Jae leans forward, nearing the gun towards Minho. “You, my friend, will tell me things I want to know.”

“And if I don’t?”

Jae chuckles madly. “Just don’t. Loyalty ain’t helping you here at all. We all are getting betrayed sooner or later, just be smart enough and be the one who betrays instead of being betrayed.”

“Who are you betraying then?” Minho cocks his eyebrow at Jae.

Jae ignores this small jab at him. “I found your address in a dead drop from an assassin who tried to kill me a few weeks ago. At first, I thought ‘why’, but then it came to me. This was the hide-out of the local gang, right? So, he must have known someone here who would have helped him in times of need.”

Minho, again, only shrugs unimpressed. “We still have old ties from the former gang. The address could’ve been stored there for years. I only took over the shop from my father and that’s it. I gave up the gang for a life in peace.”

Jae only huffs at that. “Sure, and Hyunjin doesn’t wear the gang symbol as a tattoo on his neck. He should have chosen another place, even that turtleneck can’t hide it. Who even tattoos their neck?”

“How did you recognize the tattoo?”

“I didn’t.” Jae waves around with his hand. “I took a shot in the dark and his face told me all.”

“You honestly lost me here.” Minho crosses his arms in confusion. “What exactly did Hyunjin tell you and what not?”

Jae knows Minho is only fishing for information, but Jae is so goddamn tired of everything. He just wants the answers, preferably someone who tells him he got it all wrong.

“Minho.”

Minho looks up to him, every emotion draining out of his face when he sees the sheer exhaustion in Jae’s face.

Jae shakes his head, his lips forming the question that lies on his tongue for hours now. He looks the directly into the younger’s eyes, waiting for a sign. Anything.

“Minho, please. Just tell me why.” He lowers the gun, lets it rest on the table with his hands withdrawn to his lap. “Why is he doing this?”

Jae has long thought about it the past hours. Well, he has long thought about it the past few weeks. Details added up to the small picture forming in his head that, at that time, was blurred out as much as he wished for it to be.

A shiver runs down his spine, making his hairs stand up on his skin.

Is it too hard to ask for confirmation? Just so that someone can tell him that Jae hallucinates things?

“I don’t know.”

A breath that Jae is holding for far too long escapes his lungs when he sees the earnest look on Minho’s face. Maybe there is some hope.

“I wish I could give you answers,” Minho continues, as earnest as before. “But you are asking the wrong person. I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I’m just a mere shop owner that was once part of a gang. I just want to live my life in peace and apart from all that madness going on in a mob.” He slumps a bit in his chair as if he himself is tired of everything. “I’ve seen my parents dying at the hands of this life and I don’t want to be the same. I see how much Channie-hyung struggles sleeping at night and how much it takes from Younghyun-hyung. The mob kills people, unforgiving and with no one spared at all.”

“The burnt child dreads the fire, huh?” Jae chuckles dryly.

“If I can give you any advice, hyung.” Minho bows his head. “Stop asking questions whose answers you don’t want to hear.” He cocks his head then, glances at the gun. “Or at least, ask the right people.”

And while Minho certainly wants to take away all of Jae’s suspicions, his last sentence fills him with so much more dread than before. He isn’t sure anymore. Will he take lies for gospel because he wants them to be that? Minho is contradictory; telling him he turned his back to the gang life, but at the same time knows what the streets are talking about. Denies his connection to Hyunjin when he obviously knows him. Even good liars are bad when faced with the obvious truth.

Jae knows a lost fight when he sees one. Minho won’t give him the answers he wants to hear and yet Jae has gotten much more than he wanted.

The picture of a woman catches his eye on the way out, her arms resting around Younghyun’s shoulders, the eyes the same: intense, knowing, deeply fond. Jae has seen her before on a picture Younghyun has hidden under his bed. His mother. He only knows about his father so far, not about his mother.

Maybe this—

“What’s her name?”

Minho’s head shoots up at Jae’s question and follows where his finger points to. The tension vanishes from his frame when he deems the question as harmless enough to answer.

“That’s Younghyun’s mother. Aunt Hyunjoo was a pretty woman.”

Jae nods when he studies her features. She resembles Younghyun so much, from smile to eyes, the same kind of feeling and charm lasting to her expression.

Wait.

“Aunt? She’s your aunt?”

Minho nods hesitantly. “Yeah, my father’s sister. That’s how we got involved in gang life, actually. Fell in love with Kang-nim and married him, and my father was dumb enough to get into the mob to protect her from the bad guys. Good thing it did, right?”

“Oh.” Because what more is there to say? Gang life kills people etc., you know the drill.

It’s only when Jae sits in the car, parking in the parking lot in front of their apartment building, that the severity of Minho’s words catches up with him.

He doesn’t have the time to follow that train of thought when a sudden call disturbs the eerie silence of the night. Rain patters against the windshield, thunder rumbles in the background. Jae’s heart misses a few beats in surprise and then never slows down because this just got as bad as he feared for it to be.

Please, Wonpil, bring him some good news!

“Tell me you didn’t find what I think you did.”

The line rustles in static. He can hear the rain on the other side of the line, mixed with the silence due to Wonpil not speaking the fuck up.

“Wonpil!” Jae cries as he punches his wheel. Blood pulses through his veins and anxiety crawls up his spine. Swear to god, hopefully it doesn’t end in a panic attack. Jae has enough of them for a lifetime.

“Hyung!” Wonpil responds in a flustered whisper. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Just—” He tugs at his hair to get the panic out of his system. He needs his composure for a bit. “What did you find?”

Wonpil hesitates. Wonpil never fucking hesitates. The last time he did that, Younghyun was lying in the hospital. Jae can’t do that again.

“I did what you told me to and—Well, I found something.”

It bugs him so much right now that Younghyun put something there. Why, Younghyun, why?

“What is it?” Jae whispers. Fear laces his voice with that same amount of despair. Wonpil catches it, only his breathing mixed with the soft patter of rain. Jae feels like crying right now.

“A recording device. It looks old—” As if brought from an old shop that also sells burner phones, maybe? “—and the only way to get the recordings is by manually copying it from the memory card in there.”

Jae slumps his head against the window, watching the drops running down on his window. At least he isn’t lying on a street, wounded and bleeding. Even though he feels the same right now. Bleeding from scars that are open once more.

“Hyung, what is going on?” Wonpil asks when Jae doesn’t speak for minutes.

Jae sighs, curling slightly into himself, questioning everything.

“Were you in it, too?”

Some pieces are still missing to see the whole picture. Jae doesn’t understand the big why. Only that things add up enough to see the rest of it.

He was a fool all along.

“In on what?” Wonpil sounds confused, just as Minho did. But Minho was lying, Jae is sure of that. He must be lying, otherwise it wouldn’t make any sense.

Jae heaves a heavy sigh, defeated. “Remember when you told me your suspicions? That it’s an inside job?”

He doesn’t hear anything from Wonpil, until minutes later a simple ‘ _Oh_ ’ reaches his ears. Wonpil is smart, he will figure it out on his own. If he hasn’t already done so.

“Are you sure?” He asks tentatively. “If yes, the consequences—”

“I know, Wonpil.” Jae’s heart is heavy. He doesn’t care. “I’m still not sure about it. Let me make one call and maybe—I don’t know. Maybe I’m seeing things or maybe not, but if I make this call, I will probably see that I’m stupid or something.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Wonpil chides him. “Just— call me if you’re sure. And then we can think any further. Okay?”

“Okay.”

When Wonpil ends the call, Jae feels lonely. Crushed by the reality of the dark night. An endless ocean that will never cease to capture him. Darkness follows him everywhere, pulling him into the deep end. Roaring tides that never give him a chance at seeing the light, draining him of the colors in his life.

What a fool he was to believe that he can have it again.

His fingers are shaking when he pushes the numbers. He swallows at least three times before he presses call. With every beep his heart continues to speed up and his breath gets stuck in his lungs. When the other accepts the call, he feels like throwing up.

“Hello?” The voice from the other side calls for him. “Who’s there?”

It takes Jae a long time and a threat of hanging up before he says anything.

“It’s me, Jae.”

“Oh!” The other perks up at his voice. “Nice to hear from you, boss!”

Chan doesn’t sleep, Jae remembers, and he never sounds sleepy when he calls. Chan never sleeps, Minho has told him, because this job eats him alive. It’s in the middle of the night and Chan is there to answer Jae’s questions.

“I just wanted to hear from you,” Jae says shakily. He swallows once to get his voice straight again. “How’s it going over there?”

When Chan answers in English, his Australian accent thinly there, Jae realizes that he himself is speaking English as well. He isn’t listening to what Chan is telling him. His head is filled with white noise and one simple thought echoing in it.

Jae licks his lips when he notices the silence. Chan must know something’s up. “I’ve met some of your friends here,” Jae quickly changes the topic to get to the point of the call. “Minho and Hyunjin.”

He hears a delightful chuckle. At least one of them is in a good mood. “I haven’t seen them in a while. How are they?”

“Good. Good,” Jae says. “They’re… good.”

“Okay.” Chan pauses. “Is everything alright? You sound shaken, if I’m honest.”

“Everything’s alright. Super A-okay!” When Chan hums, Jae knows he doesn’t believe him. He has to think fast. “Hyunjin told me how nice it is to be in the mob, you know?”

The silence isn’t good.

“…Did he?” Chan sounds skeptical. Maybe Jae made a mistake.

“Yeah.” _Just go through with the lie_ , he encourages himself. “I know that no one should know about this. But Younghyun deemed it okay that I know about it.”

“…Did he?” Now he sounds downright suspicious.

Oh. Probably because he doesn’t know about the recent development of his and Younghyun’s relationship.

“Yeah. Younghyun and I—we talked. Cleared all of our difficulties and sort of confessed? You know, this ‘I love you’ and ‘you love me’ and delving into that sexual tension—”

“I believe you!” Chan interrupts with a squeak. “You don’t have to tell me about that part of your life. But I’m happy for you!”

“Thanks,” Jae tries to chuckle earnestly. He doesn’t fail according to Chan’s own giggle. “But, uhm,” Jae starts to return back to the topic at hand. “He also told me then about everything else. About the delivery boys and the assassins, you know?”

Jae closes his eyes. Bites on his lip. Please, Bang Chan, his life lies now in his hands.

This is torture. The silence is pure torture to him. He wants for it to be over. Please. If there is any god, make this pass by. Let Jae’s suspicions be what they are—simple suspicions born out of being burnt twice. Younghyun can’t do that to him, not again.

Not after everything that happened here.

He suddenly hears Chan exhale a breath. It sounds freeing. For Chan. Not for Jae. Because for Jae, torture has just turned into terror.

~~~

The clock strikes four in the evening. A loud thunder tears through the sky, brightening the dark room for a second. Jae hears the patter of feet walking down the hallway. First confused, then straight to the living room where Jae is sitting.

Lightning strikes again.

Younghyun’s eyes widen at the sight. His hair is ruffled by sleep, his face puffed and eyes swollen. He looks pretty even like that. Worried lines are drawn more and more on his face as his eyes widen since Jae is a sight to behold.

Sitting there at the windowsill, looking out into the raining night, down to the city. He is drenched, the wetness clinging to him from standing in the rain for too long. Between his fingers a cigarette burns. The smoke fills the whole room with its rotten stench, smelling so much like Younghyun on a bad day.

“What the hell?” Younghyun’s dumbfounded voice echoes through the room, broken by the thunder rumbling again. “Where have you been?”

Jae continues looking out through the window while his fingers press out the cigarette on the windowsill. Younghyun doesn’t step further into the room. Good. Jae doesn’t know what he would do if otherwise.

“Jae?” The younger asks now hesitantly. “What is going on?”

People are asking him that all day now while it should be Jae who asks that. Cruel thing that irony.

Jae exhales that last breath of smoke, seeing it getting lost in the darkness. He stretches his neck looking up, as if drowning deeper into that darkness.

“The first time you did that,” Jae eventually says, his voice void of any emotion. “I laid bleeding on a street in LA, and Sammy came to pick up my shards.” He presses his hand against the window, his eyes following the trail of one drop.

“The second time you did that, I laid bleeding on a street in Seoul, and Wonpil came to find me nearly death.” He stops at that, cocking his head. There would be his reflection in the window if there was any light in their flat. “I died on that street. Shards broken beyond repair.

“I became that mobster I am now because I thought… What Brian can do, I can do so much better. And look where it got me to.”

He finally turns to Younghyun. The streetlamps brighten their flat lightly. He sees forms and hints of details, but half of his figure is hidden by shadows.

This isn’t Younghyun anymore.

The perfect image of Younghyun, that man he has loved for such a long time, had died on that same night in Seoul along with Jae.

“It got me back to you,” Jae hisses. His voice is filled with so much hatred and resentment, he sees Brian flinching. He looks confused at the pure agony mirrored on Jae’s face, his mouth opening and closing at the attempt of finding words. Jae doesn’t give him the chance to even speak once.

“I’m so stupid for eating everything out of your hand, _Brian_. _Everything I do, I do for you, Jae_ or _I love you so much, Jae_ or _Run away with me, Jae_ ,” Jae mimics Brian mockingly. “Screw you for that! How can you lie so blatantly into my face! Is everything only a fucking game for you, huh?!”

“I have no idea what is going on right now,” Brian says calmly, while his hands give away the panic surging through him.

“You fucking piece of shit know what is going on here! I’ve had it up to here with your pathetic game. Just come here and tell me truth, you fucking coward!”

And suddenly, Brian’s up in his personal space, his hands gripping his shirt hard and pressing him against the window. The look in his eyes isn’t intense or fond, instead they are aggressive and dark and—is that fear he can see?

“Like I said,” Brian says with his teeth clenched, “I have no idea what you are talking about, so stop calling me names and speak facts!”

“I have every right to call you names, you traitor!” He shoves Brian away to get his space back. “Or should I call you Lee Hyunyeong instead?”

The truth has finally dropped. All of Jae’s fears channeled in this one revelation. It was hanging over his head for the whole time, like the clouds shielding the light away from his lithe frame. What was it that got Jae thinking that Brian is the one saving him from the ocean? Bringing with him the light Jae longs so much for. For finally coloring the grays into hues of life. Instead, the darkness clings to him even further, pulling him deeper. How deep is the deep anyways as Jae feels like he should have reached the bottom long ago.

Even being faced with the truth at value, Brian doesn’t tense. Doesn’t flinch or swallow or look away. No tell. Nothing. Is this all just a figment of Jae’s imagination? All the suspicion and things that finally add up?

Jae pushes further when Brian doesn’t say anything, only standing still and staring at him blankly.

“Rearrange the Hangul and you get Younghyun. And a nice homage to mommy, too. How does it feel like, wearing the name of your own mother and betray everyone around you?”

“Jae,” Brian speaks menacingly. “I would be careful with what you’re insinuating here.”

“Insinuating?” Jae huffs despite the dangerous tone laced in Brian’s voice. “I’m stating plain facts! I should have known that it’s you all along. Just right from when Wonpil told me it’s an inside job. It just fits perfectly!”

Jae is downright furious. All that anger that was enclosed within him, that he long thought had vanished through worries and kisses for Brian, it all comes up again. It devours him. It’s the pressure sitting heavy on his chest, now only ten times heavier. He can’t breathe freely anymore while his heart lost its rhythm. Erratic, just like the whirlwind of his thoughts.

And yet, he has never seen anything clearer than this situation.

“For so long—” Jae continues with a shaking voice, betraying the blank face he tries to pull off. “I knew for so long that it is someone from our own ranks. Those assassins, they knew too much of our inner workings. The captain who got too easily onto the ship even though no one has seen him before. And the delivery boys that suddenly vanish into thin air, just like that.”

It irks Jae so much that Brian only stands there waiting. As if he would start laughing just when Jae finishes his explanation. It’s mocking him. Jae feels like losing it all and there stands Brian, the calm of the storm, closing off with every word. This is the person who let him bleed on the streets without a second thought. This is the personification of everything Jae hates in this world.

This is Brian in all of his perfections and imperfections.

Jae tries to take a heavy breath. He can’t. Panic crawls up his spine, making him want to throw up. His limbs are shaking as does his voice, but he pushes further. He wants answers.

“I couldn’t believe it at first, but then… Seoul talks. And Seoul told me to stop looking on the streets for a murderer that is right in front of my nose. And so, I did. I stopped looking—at all. Because I didn’t want to find the traitor in our midst.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” Brian sounds distant. It’s hard to read him when he is half swallowed by the shadows. Jae couldn’t read him anyways. Brian has always been that unfolding mystery that Jae couldn’t ever get his hands on reading. Like a book in a language that he will never master. “You searched for a traitor.”

“There is a pattern.” His fingers fish for the box of cigarettes, only one left. It’s better like that because then Brian wouldn’t smoke so much anymore.

Shit.

Jae should stop thinking such thoughts. He worries too much for someone who is out there trying to kill him.

“Everything is connected and works towards one goal. I was confused as to what the pattern is—” Jae takes a deep breath from the cigarette. Smoke fills his lungs and—he can see why Brian does this. Smoking calms him slightly down. It quietens the rumbling thoughts in his mind and eases the shaking in his limps. His fingers are still trembling, nonetheless. “But I sort of got it along the way. _I_ was the pattern.”

Another inhale. Jae braces himself.

“First you needed to get rid of Wonpil. Sinking a whole ship is bad enough for Wonpil to get off my case for days at minimum. Perfect timing on a day where I need someone to get killed and then someone important enough that we can’t mess up, so Sungjin tells you to take over the job. But you needed more.

“The vanishing delivery boys? It’s my fault that I wasn’t reading Chan’s mails, otherwise I would’ve known earlier. But that night, one delivery boy was killed and appeared in Bangtan’s territory. You knew that someone from Bangtan would take offence to that and maybe Namjoon appearing in my apartment was the best outcome of that, because suddenly, you were near me the whole time.”

Jae licks over his lips. Smoke passes through his lips, becoming one with the air around them. He leans his head against the window, eyeing the relaxed form of Brian, who has taken himself to sit in a chair across from Jae.

Nothing.

Jae can’t read anything off him, not with the shadows playing over his face, not with the lack of emotion mirrored in his face. A blank canvas, white with no colors.

“You were watching me, even when you weren’t there. You had access to my CCTV and planted a recording device in my living room.”

Now Jae is glad that he doesn’t do shit in his apartment. That this place that should have been his safe heaven is sacred enough to not let the darkness fill in. This place is meant for him to look down on the city, not to make him realize that he will never fly high enough to even have the chance to get his wings burnt by the sun.

Jae is falling ever since he set foot in this city. Is this him finally landing?

“Was it easy to track down my movements? Send me to Dowoon because there are problems with my drugs that Chan can’t take care of? The killers, they were there to shoot me, what if they had killed Dowoon, too?”

The ' _What if they had accomplished their assassination?'_ stays unsaid.

“Oh, and nice trick with my drug stash. Not only did you try to take my life away, no, but business, too. It brought me right back into your arms. I was scared because someone was out there killing me and stressed because not only do my delivery boys vanish into thin air, no, my drugs were shit and burnt down by some mysterious men. I came to you and you used me. You probably laughed at my emotional distress and got me off in some twisted power play, huh?”

Fuck that cigarette. His anger boils higher than before as realizations come with every sentence. They finally have a place to be vented out. It feels so freeing and, at the same time, so crushing. Reality has finally caught up in this twisted fantasy world.

“Jae, that’s not—”

“Shut it! I’m not nearly finished with you!”

Fuck Brian. Fuck his opinions, his pleads, his fucking cold face. It’s discouraging to see him so cold and detached from everything. Doesn’t it mean anything to him what has happened the last days and weeks? Jae fucking—

Fuck.

“I had an inkling about what is happening. I knew that Chan was in it in some way. The delivery boys didn’t vanish, they go out of sheer will. Chan was the one who made sure I am where I should be, Chan swapped the drugs, burnt them down, made sure that I follow some wrong trail. Felix was in it, too, right? I was confused as to why you kept the Bangtan boy your prisoner even though I told you to let him off. But you wanted me to suspect them, right? That Namjoon’s sabotaging us, right?”

This would have been working well, if it weren't for Jae—

A bunch of traitors, that’s what they are.

“And when Chan told me you are friends since childhood, it made so much sense. Chan is loyal, the most loyal person I’ve ever met. But he isn’t loyal to me or Sungjin but to you, his old friend.

“Me bringing here to Ilsan, this was your downfall. Everything suddenly fell into place. The assassins were all connected to Ilsan because that’s when their bond was formed. By your father. I found your many identities in a locker at the post office along with the emergency contact, which, oh surprise, is Minho.”

Brian shakes his head, lightly. “You don’t have any proof for that.”

He doesn’t try to deny it. Jae wants to scream. His vision gets blurry, here they come, the tears out of anger and desperation.

“I have fucking proof, you idiot!” Jae reaches beneath him and pulls out everything he has collected over the last days. The connections, the identities, everything laid bare. “Tell Hyunjin that he is a bad liar. He practically confirmed that you are the head of your own small gang here in Ilsan. Minho shouldn’t have told me about your mother because that’s the fucking key to understand the pattern of your fake names. Oh, and let’s not forget that Chan _told me everything_ when I confessed that you told me. That guy is a naïve idiot.”

Finally, he hears Brian taking a sharp breath. It’s something, a small crack in that posture. Brian isn’t indestructible. He can drown with Jae.

“I just don’t understand why. Why are you doing this?” Jae pleads, yes, _pleads_ , because he is a desperate idiot who wants to understand the pain Brian is pushing him through and through again. “Why are trying to kill me? Is it because I took over the position you wanted to have? Because I took Chan from—”

Fuck.

“I didn't even take Chan from you, right? You put him there?”

His hands find their way up to his head, the cigarette somewhere lost on the floor burning, and he grabs hard at his own strands to take the pain away from his chest.

“You try to kill me,” he says, breathless and under tears that are streaming down on his face. “And yet you bring me here and whisper confessions into my ear. What is this sick game? Tell me to run away together but at the same time you destroy everything I have worked hard for? You are a fucking liar, I hate you, why are you doing this to me?! Why do you tell me that you love me when—”

“Don’t you dare to tell me that I don’t love you!”

Brian suddenly jumps to his feet, his hands clenched into fists. A crack that widens further. His face is still blank, except for the eyes. Intense and so full of many different emotions.

“I’m doing this, all of this—” Brian motions around him, his arms stretched away from his body. “This is for you. For us. So we can finally be together again.”

“In what world does this shit bring us together?!”

“But we are here together, aren’t we? We sleep in the same bed, we eat together, we laugh together. This—It felt like America again. It felt like everything I wanted to feel and to have you in my arms at the end of the day—There is nothing that I wanted more than that, Jae.”

Jae shakes his head. He can’t believe this. This doesn’t make any sense.

“This doesn’t change anything. This isn’t permanent. You don’t kill people to be with the one you love!”

_I killed someone so I can be with you._

Horror echoes through Jae’s mind.

He is a hypocrite.

“You don’t kill the people you love,” he whispers.

“You don’t belong to this life, Jae.” Brian responds in that same tone. He sounds wistful with his eyes fixated on Jae’s frame. “You were never meant to be here.”

“What—”

“You never left this old world. I agree, it was a mistake to take you with me. You’re not a mobster, you were really bad at this. At first. I wanted to get you out of Seoul so much, but it didn’t matter what I did, you stayed.”

Jae’s eyes scurry over Brian’s face. He tries to read him but there is so much shadow found in his mimics. The beauty of his has dimmed, melted into the blackness of the night. No stars to be found shining in his eyes. Jae’s heart sinks to his knees.

His tears drop from his chin to his hands when he stares up to Brian’s face. He doesn’t find anything.

“I thought—Maybe if you see how bad you are at this you will finally go. I hoped that you can get out of here alive. But then…” Brian takes a shallow breath before his face hardens. “You were good. Your drug business bloomed, the people loved you, and you decided to kill one of the former kings just like that.” His jaw clenches, and Jae sees his adam’s apple bobble with a gulp. “Jae, you killed someone. For me.”

“I know, but I couldn’t—”

“Your heart’s too good for this life.”

It isn’t. Jae’s heart is black. The whiteness is stained with darkness every second he spends his life here in the mob. Jae wanted it to be covered with colors in every hue, but he forgot that mixing everything together results in a mushy gray.

“You tried to kill me… because I don’t belong here?”

He is confused. He doesn’t know what Brian tries to tell him. He gets mixed signals—is this an act out of love or jealousy?

The only thing clear in his mind—heart—is the pain. It hurts so much, looking at Brian. He has always thought that Brian is the one person he belongs to. Even when they hate each other, when they love each other, Jae and Brian belong to each other. They have a place they could find home in.

“I didn’t try to kill you,” Brian corrects him with urgency. “I only wanted you to… leave.” He winces, probably because he knows how bad it sounds. “For a better life,” he adds hastily.

In an objective stance where Jae could analyze patterns and behaviors in calm silent, he could have read so many tells. But right now, he can’t do this. His judgement is clouded by the static noise in his mind. He can’t read anything, see rightly.

“Is this why we are here? So, you can get rid of me?”

Brian nods. “I realized—I just— I want to be with you. That’s probably why Chan told you everything when you've told him I trust you. I want to be with you, far away from here. I already planned everything—”

“Are you kidding me?”

Brian shuts up when Jae suddenly interrupts with a cold calmness to his voice. Jae looks up to him in disbelief, his eyes wide.

“You try to get rid of me, try to kill me, play me, and then change your mind because I’m suddenly killing people or—what? That I belong to your world?”

“You are twisting my words—”

“What the fuck?!” Jae jumps up from the window. He is taller than Brian, yet he feels so much smaller. Or not? Jae doesn’t know. He’s a mess. Nothing makes sense. “You betray our family to get rid of me, you kill people to scare me, you try to kill me to make me run away?” He let him bleed on the streets of LA. “You risk a gang war between Six and Bangtan over something trivial as this? But as soon as you realize that I have it in me being a mobster, you change your mind because I’m good enough for a fuck?!” He let him bleed on the streets of Seoul.

“You’re not listening, Jae.”

Jae ignores the threatening tone in his agitated state.

All the kisses and confessions and the sex, was this all just some ploy for Brian? Was it even real for him at all? Has Jae been the only one in love all the time?

Jae has thought his heart was broken before, but this—this is so much worse than before.

Brian staged everything, all his problems, all his feelings. Those playful smiles, attempts at flirting, confessions of love, sweet whispers, touches; they all are lies constructed in a game that Brian has been playing for so long. Is anything he ever said true?

He brought him to this city where Brian was born. Sungjin sent Jae away with Brian to be protected from the man who tries to kill him and Brian. Was this planned by Brian, too? Was everything just a ploy or is Jae only paranoid? This can’t be, they are here because—

Everything halts in Jae.

This is a cruel thought that he suddenly has. Brian wouldn’t ever—would he? He doesn’t know. His world is tilted on its axis. Jae wants to rip out every hair individually.

Something breaks.

He doesn’t know what.

Probably he himself.

He gives up the fight against the darkness.

He lets himself float in the water, drowning without a fight. Floating and watching the world swallowing him up.

“Jae?”

Brian takes a step forward, his arms outstretched as if he wants to embrace Jae. Jae snaps.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarls at him. His gun is found between his fingers, the barrel pressing into Brian’s pectoral. He loosens the security, fingers trembling. Hard.

“What is going on in your mind?”

Jae shakes his head. He can’t look into those eyes. See those lips. They are pretty. Beautiful. It hurts him so much, especially when the shadows aren’t dancing over his features anymore.

“You killed Sammy so you could bring me here?”

“What?”

“You killed Sammy!” Jae cries, pressing the gun further into the muscle. “You killed Sammy,” he whimpers again and again. He feels Brian wrestling the gun out of his hands.

_Fool me once, shame on you._

He doesn’t know what is happening anymore.

_Fool me twice, shame on me._

Only that a loud shot rings through the silent night, loudly with a bang.

_Fool me thrice… what then?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it - **Jae** 's truth about who is the traitor in the mob. Did anyone guess that it's him? At this point a small reminder: This story is entirely told by Jae and from his POV, which means that we only know _his_ side.
> 
> Next week - Track 12: Bang bang, that’s even better, it's too familiar now


	12. Track 12: Bang bang, that’s even better, it's too familiar now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Day6 - Shoot me
> 
> Here we go again: STREAM **YOUNGK'S 'TEXT ME NOW'** FIRST! IT'S SO GOOD! Or listen to it while reading!
> 
> Me: WARNING! sounds like the background music to a road race  
> Me to me: Let's write a road race scene!
> 
> So... I guess we have a road race scene... kind of?

Jae remembers all of his first times.

Which ones you ask?

Well, let him enlighten you.

Jae remembers his first kiss. It was with a girl in middle school. He gave her chocolate at valentines because everyone was doing so, and she gave him a little peck against the lips. Jae wasn’t in love, she wasn’t either, so that’s that.

Then, he remembers the first drink he’d ever had. It wasn’t beer or some other cheap shit. It was a shot of vodka, burning down his throat on one night in summer camp. Jae still can’t remember anything from that night, only the distant taste of alcohol mixed with his vomit and the big hickey on his neck.

Which leads us to his next first time: Kissing a boy. They both were drunk at said night in summer camp and curious enough to try it. Jae thought him attractive, the boy hopefully reciprocated the feeling, and they made out. Often. Nearly every day. In secret, in case the supervisors made their rounds behind the cabins (It was a church organised summer camp and Jae kissing boys would have caused more problems than his gay crisis during that time).

Jae then had an inkling he wasn’t one hundred percent straight (make-out sessions with a cute boy in summer camp proved him that much) and first year in College seemed to be his sexual awakening. Jae got his first boyfriend, had his first time being intimate with someone, only to be broken up with weeks later because Jae didn’t fit into his social circle.

Screw that guy, Sammy had huffed a month before he took him to that bar on that fateful night.

So, Jae had experienced his many first times even before he knew of Brian's existence. First crush, first love, first kiss, first time black-out-drinking, first time sex, first everything.

Except the first-time taking drugs. That, Jae did with Brian together. And we are not talking about pulling on a joint.

It was on a normal college day with the last final of the semester behind them. To celebrate this day Brian invited Jae for small dinner at home, just the two of them chilling like two normal college students.

(Jae hated going to clubs except for the small bar where Brian played then and now, and Brian himself wasn’t a fan of that since clubbing meant work for him.)

That was how Jae found himself between Brian’s arms, Brian’s fingers pressing into his shoulders to relieve some of the aches caused by being hunched over his books the last few weeks. This was attempt number two because Brian had been so turned on by Jae’s small grunts and moans that he jumped Jae right there on the sofa.

“You should stop moaning like that,” Brian grumbled with that cute little pout on his lips when Jae did it again. He couldn’t help it, Brian’s fingers were working magic on his shoulders.

Brian’s fingers wandered further down until they reached the cleft of his ass, massaging his buttocks.

“Briaaaaan~” Jae whined at the motion. He turned around, pecked against Brian’s lips and made his hands stop doing whatever Brian was trying to do. “We just had one round, let me relax for a second.”

Brian nosed his neck, pressing little butterfly kisses along his throat. “You’re too hot and cute for that.”

“Isn’t that a contradiction?” Jae chuckled. He pushed Brian’s head away to see his eyes crinkling in amusement. That smile, though, that had always been the highlight of Jae’s day.

“I don’t care.” Brian snapped for Jae’s finger playfully when Jae tried to shush him and threw himself fully onto the taller. Jae huffed a breath when the full weight of Brian hit him (and Brian, shorter, weighed much more than Jae). “Your fault that you’re too skinny.”

Oh, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“You wanna watch something on Netflix?”

Jae started to fiddle around with Brian’s laptop on the bed. He clicked on the browser and—

“You haven’t closed your mails,” Jae mumbled when his eyes caught too many words that he didn’t want to be conscious of. Just when he wanted to close it, a new mail came in. In Korean.

Here’s the thing: Jae wasn’t completely new to the language of his heritage. No, he was totally capable of reading Hangul and understanding some basic phrases due to Korean lessons in high school. Which was positive for Jae because his boyfriend here was Korean, too. Only bad for said boyfriend that he didn’t know about that.

“E-mail from some Park Sungjin just came in,” Jae mumbled before he opened a new tab to navigate to Netflix. He was about to scroll through the recommendations when Brian suddenly pried the laptop off his hands into his own lap. Jae looked at him confused. “What was that?”

“The mail’s in Korean. I thought you didn’t speak Korean?” Brian sounded more alert than confused. His fingers tipped hastily on the keyboard; an answer to that Sungjin, Jae presumed.

“And I thought we don’t have secrets anymore?” Jae retorted slowly because this looked much like Brian panicking about something Jae could have read and shouldn’t know about.

“No, that’s not—” Brian spluttered, trying to concentrate on that mail and on Jae at the same time. He drew his hands through his hair after his finger pressed the enter-button. “Park Sungjin isn’t just anyone and if he gets wind of—of your existence, I’m in so much trouble. You know things you shouldn’t know about.”

Jae rolled around until he faced Brian, his hair fanning around his head. He looked up at the younger with furrowed brows. “Who’s that Park Sungjin?”

With a stoic face, Brian contemplated for a few seconds before sighing. “He’s the boss now, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“Well, things happened and… there was a change of leadership in our mob. And the new leader is this Park Sungjin.”

Brian seemed to be uncomfortable talking about the topic, so Jae rolled on the bed until his belly met Brian’s blanket covered leg, nuzzling his face into it.

“I don’t speak that much Korean, so don’t worry. I can read Hangul and say ‘ _anyeonghaseyo, Jae imnida’_. That makes me more of a Kpop stan than a Korean-originated guy.”

Brian leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against his forehead, and Jae mirrored the smile on Brian’s face.

Heart-wrenching if Jae thinks back to that moment. How their relationship has once been so simple and problems were solved within the minute they occurred. They were innocent, naïve and full of trust. It pains his heart so much.

But right, Jae interrupted himself thinking about the good ol' times. The topic, right, his first-time taking drugs.

Jae and Brian were spooning on the bed with some random series playing on Netflix and Brian kissing every inch of his throat and neck, and Jae nearly fell asleep at the calming motion.

Until someone knocked at the door. Jae perked up at the sudden intrusion while Brian went all tense behind him.

“You don’t wanna open it?” Jae asked into the darkness of the room.

Brian suddenly leaned down to him and pecked his lips, whispering into his ears a calm ‘ _Don’t move nor make a sound_ ’ before he moves up from the bed, putting on boxers and a shirt on his way to the door. Jae buried himself deeper into the blankets until he nearly vanished underneath it except for his eyes, doubling in size when Brian suddenly procured a gun out of his bag.

The door squeaked when it opened. Jae could only hear whispers for a few seconds, then the door closed again and Brian shuffled back into the room. He carelessly threw the gun onto the desk along with a small paper bag and was about to shrug off his shirt and shorts again when Jae asked,

“Who was it?”

Brian’s head appeared out of his shirt again. “Small delivery. They gave me a few samples.”

“Of what?” Jae wiggled out of his cocoon to set his feet on the ground, reaching curiously for the paper bag. He peered into it and found—

“Oh.”

He immediately threw the bag onto the desk again and fell back into the pillows. He stared straight up to the ceiling with a deep frown on his lips.

“Every time a new batch arrives, I take a bit for myself,” Brian explained, sitting down on Jae’s lap. His head slowly came into his vision, a crooked smile on his lips. “Just to know if the drugs are as good as I’ve been told they are.”

Jae pursed his lips. “How often?”

Brian thought about it for a second. “Not often. Most times I don’t do that. It’s no fun doing it alone.”

Jae threaded his hands into Brian’s hair, pulling him down for a long, slow kiss. Their tongues slashed together, teasing each other. Jae pulled away when the urge to breathe got too much.

“What’s it like?”

Jae was surging up for another round, but Brian leaned back out of reach. He looked dumbfounded at Jae, a face that then slowly melts into a hesitant grin.

“You wanna try?” He leaned back next to his ear, whispering seductively, “I heard having sex being high is like finding the answer to life.”

“You heard about it or you know about it?”

He only got a dorky grin in response. Jae guffawed at the face, especially once Brian’s face lit up brighter. He jumped out of the bed and came back with the paper bag in tow, nearly tripping in his haste.

“Okay, let’s—uhm—we have weed, cocaine, heroin and some MDMA,” Brian mumbled more to himself than to Jae. He unpacked all the content and strew it out on the bed, rubbing his nose deep in thought. “Let’s go with cocaine.”

“You sure?”

Brian nodded. “That’s the only one I’ve taken so far except for the weed.”

“Okay, then let’s get some cocaine up our noses and have a nice trip.”

“You don’t trip on cocaine, you get a kick. If you want to trip, you’ll have to take ecstasy.”

And what a kick that was.

Every touch, every kiss, every lick, it felt. So. Good. Wow.

His skin was on fire and every touch was like oil fueling it further. Everything became so much that it was nearly too much, and Jae loved everything about it. He suddenly felt brave. He had so many ideas in his head, things he wanted to do, and he had no qualms about telling Brian them now that he was high.

“Let’s switch,” Jae suggested while Brian’s mouth was filled with his cock. There was something about the view down there that made him greed for so many things. Brian’s intense eyes stared up to him as if he’s an angel who gave him the key to heaven, and Jae looked down to him as if he’s ready to be plunged into the deep end. “Fuck me tonight.”

A loud moan teared through the room when Brian pulled off in one quick motion. His lips were swollen, wet with spit, cherry red. Jae wanted to kiss him so much.

“Are you sure? We’ve never—”

Brian couldn’t get to the end of the sentence with Jae suddenly latching on his lips, nibbling at them to make them even redder until he tasted blood. Brian was undeniably sexy in this state that Jae wanted to devour him. Make him only his to own.

He drew Brian’s ear to his mouth and growled, “Fuck. Me.”

Jae knew what it felt like having something up his ass. He was no foreigner to being fingered open from the rare occasions he did so himself in a state of curious exploration. He liked the feeling, he liked getting off like this. There was only something about doing it with someone else that made Jae dismissing the idea immediately as soon as it came up. Jae only did the fucking and not once let others do that to him.

Right now, having three of Brian’s totally talented finger up his hole and Brian’s mouth licking and sucking on his dick-- Jae felt like arriving at Eden.

It only got so much better when Brian was finally pounding into him. His body was pressed into the mattress, his back arched with much pleasure, and his throat sore from all the loud moans escaping from it. His eyes wandered up higher and higher until he couldn’t see anything else than white, but even then he knew that Brian looked painfully beautiful in a way that couldn’t be explained at all.

Brian licked along his throat and bit lightly into it. That was when another idea came to Jae’s mind. Something that had been playing in his mind thousands of times, a desire that he had suppressed for so long that it had to be voiced right now. Right this instant. Go, Jae!

“Choke me, please.”

He had seen it already a few times. Brian tended to choke people before he killed them. It made the people pliant between his hands and their death less messy. Only once had he seen Brian actively killing someone. The chocking, though, had happened enough times for Jae being haunted by the image of Brian’s hands around his own throat.

One hand reached up to his own throat and started pressing. First lightly, then harder when Jae pleaded for it.

An epiphany. That was what it’s like, Jae had an epiphany that this, being unable to breathe and fully trusting the man he loved the most, was the biggest turn-on in his life. Jae came within seconds, his cock untouched and an orgasm like being born again. Tension only left his body again when Brian reached his own orgasm, snapping his hips a few last times.

They laid next to each other, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch their breath. Jae’s heart wasn’t stopping to run so hard and suddenly, he couldn’t catch his breath because he was having a fucking panic attack about anything, really.

“That was… nice,” Jae eventually said. He was hugged by two blankets and one Brian, and the panic attack had receded minutes ago by the calming whispers of his boyfriend. “Well, except for the… yeah.”

“Cocaine does that to you sometimes,” Brian murmured into the blanket sleepily. A loud yawn interrupted his thought and Jae was smiling again at the peaceful expression on Brian’s face.

That was Jae’s first experience with cocaine. He had promised Brian back then to never try that again, something he kept until the day Wonpil was playing the piano in his home, face wet with streaks of tears, a heart broken by life.

~~~

Jae remembers the first time he took drugs so clearly because it was an experience that had embossed itself deeply into his mind. It had opened up so many things about himself that Jae needed to mull over, especially his preference of being choked during intercourse.

No one except for Brian chokes him during sex.

(Jae isn’t brave enough to tell other people about it. Especially not Wonpil because their dynamic in bed just doesn’t work like that.)

When Jae wakes up the next morning—

He feels like shit. His ears are still ringing from the gunshot last night or maybe from the loud music, he doesn’t really know. He only knows that he went into that bar somewhere between Ilsan and Seoul, chatted up a nice guy who looked smart enough to sell not too many drugs to Jae and then was nice enough to accept sexual favors as payment.

Wow, that’s how deep Jae has sunken now. A drug lord who prostitutes himself for drugs. Oh, the irony.

It soothes Jae’s mind that he would have tried to seduce the guy anyway, so the drugs were a win in a fruitful situation.

If he remembers correctly, Jae is now waking up alone in a motel room with a hangover bad enough that he wishes to die instantly. His fingers reach for the bottle on the nightstand, one that is definitely not filled with water. Doesn’t matter right now.

In the bathroom he takes a quick look at his reflection. And fuck, he looks so much worse than he thought. His black hair looks oily and is sticking in every direction. His throat got molested by the other (or maybe by Brian, Jae can’t differentiate between new and old hickeys). Interestingly enough, there are pressure marks around his throat.

His nose isn’t tingling at all, so Jae checks his arms to find the marks and yep, there it is. A small blue bruise in the crook of his arm. Well, that’s a first then. Jae usually doesn’t take cocaine intravenous.

After a quick shower and collecting all of his clothes, Jae shuffles back to his car parked outside. At least that guy didn’t steal anything from him. (Who even would dare to steal something from an angry man with a gun tucked into his belt?)

Jae doesn’t have his phone with him and lost the burner one sometime last night after he fled from Young—Brian’s flat. He only has his wallet with no money and Brian’s car keys with him. At least the signs are pointing him toward Seoul and once in Seoul Jae will figure out how to get home.

The sun crawls up on the horizon, blanketing the sky in colors of violet and yellow. The dark skyline of the city creeps in from afar, dark shadows falling from each building.

His head hammers painfully and his throat feels very much abused. His eyes are burning with every second he doesn’t blink. The memory gaps from last night don’t come back to him in a flash or at all and maybe, Jae decides, he shouldn’t dwell too much on it.

Last night was a hard night. He hasn’t slept much except for the few hours in the motel. Before that, he drunk too much, got a kick out of cocaine, and wasted one bullet of his gun. His heart aches uncomfortably in his chest. It urges him to turn around and tell Brian how sorry he is; his head, on the other hand, screams in pain at the betrayal.

Brian has deceived him right from the beginning of their relationship. Hid his true nature under a mask of a trustful, normal college guy where instead is a cold-hearted killer to be found. A sociopath.

A sudden honk makes him jump in his seat and Jae stomps on his brakes hard, preventing the car from crashing into the one in front of him. One second later and he would’ve been carless. Fuck.

The guy behind him honks again and Jae, pent up anger and frustration threatening to spill over, flips him the bird in return. Fucker should take care of his own business instead of being a pain in his neck.

Jae, being the exemplary citizen that he is, continues to drive calmly and ignores the driver who suddenly swerves onto the lane next to him and keeps the same pace as Jae. Driving directly next to him. Jae crunches his teeth, a vein protruding on his temple while his fingers grab the wheel harder with every mile they get behind them.

Jae drives faster, the bastard next to him does too. It soon evolves into some kind of road race with their cars reaching their max speed. Jae only wanted peace, the other didn’t, and both seem to be very stubborn. Great.

At least he’s getting quicker to Seoul that way.

They reach quickly the outskirts of Seoul and the streets get fuller, their road race more dangerous with every car they pass by. Jae is determined to outpace the idiot.

Even the sudden sounding sirens behind him don’t convince him to lower the tempo.

He’s a mobster, isn’t he? What would a real mobster do in that situation? Get his gun out and shoot the guy in the face? Is that what Brian would do? Jae should try it, right? And then, just to have some more fun, blast off the heads of the chasing police officers, too. Jae feels like that, hurting someone. That’s what he should do. Otherwise, he doesn’t belong to the scene he has been living in for years.

Fuck Brian.

Unfortunately, Jae is much too focused on being angry and watching the idiot next to him that he nearly doesn’t notice the child running onto the street.

Nearly.

The next seconds happen in a blur. Jae hastily pulls the breaks and swerves to the right, directly into the empty park lot. The car stills after taking a harsh turn and Jae crashes back into his seat.

The thick silence brings him a moment of clarity. He was about to run over a child in his anger of racing against that idiot. God fucking dammit, what is wrong with him?

He throws his head against the headrest once the police surround him, and officers get off their cars with their weapons raised. Jae has a problem. His alcohol level is too high for him to be driving and if they are doing a drug test, he is absolutely fucked. Oh, and he has a gun lying on the passenger seat.

Great.

The officers are approaching him and Jae does the most logical thing he can think of. He pushes the gun under the seat and moves out of the car with his hands held over his head.

At least he gets a freeway ticket to Seoul.

~~~

That’s the second time within a month that Jae sits in a holding cell. They all look the same, he thinks as he looks around for the probably tenth time. Gray walls, bars, other criminals locked up with him. The officer who processes him this time looks as if she is judging him very hard. Just what Jae loves about people.

Processing is easier this time since he has been arrested before. He kisses his license goodbye because they sure as hell won’t give it back to him any time soon, not after they see the results of the alcohol and drug test.

Jae only waits for someone to pick him up, only curious about who it will be. Every normal citizen wouldn’t be free to go after that shit show, but, you know, Jae isn’t a normal citizen.

He is a mobster. And mobster don’t face normal consequences like normal citizen do.

Yeah.

“Park Jaehyung-ssi?”

A police officer opens the cell with the same judgmental attitude as the officer from before, this time with something akin to disgust. He must have figured out who he is, eh?

Jae only got on his feet when someone else storms into the cell, reaches for the lapel of his shirt and then tugs him outside harshly.

“You are a fucking idiot, you know?” The man says in perfect English and yeah, that’s Eric Nam currently dragging him out of the police station. The other people in the station eye them warily.

Eric pushes him into the car parked directly outside of the building, a frowning Kevin sitting in the passenger seat. Jae blinks at him with a blank face, even when Eric enters loudly the other side of the car. Kevin is the first one to break eye contact. Jae wins, wuh!

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Eric asks instead of starting the car. “First you vanish for days and then you suddenly appear high as a kite and initiate a road race?!”

“First of all,” Jae slurs intentionally. “I’m not high anymore, I’m just leftover drunk from last night. And second, the fucker started it. He pissed me off, I only wanted to drive in peace.”

“What the fuck?!” Eric rakes his hands through his hair.

Kevin only shakes his head. “I’ve told you, that guy is bad news.”

“Of course, I’m a fucking mobster!” Jae leans forward between the two seats, moving his head to and fro between Eric and Kevin. “But you guys love me, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have picked me up.” When Eric’s fingers tighten over the wheels, his knuckles turning white, and Kevin pouts with furrowed brows, Jae knows he hit a sore spot. “Oh, you didn’t? Who paid you?”

“No one paid us,” Kevin snorts. “We aren’t corrupt.”

“Sure you are.”

“A hitman threatened us,” Eric then confessed through clenched teeth. “He told me to tell you he’s the piano man.”

Jae chortles an amused laugh. This is fucking hilarious. Two grown policemen cowering in front of Wonpil because Wonpil knows how to convince people by waving his knives in front of their faces. It’s nice to know that someone likes him enough to bare his face to a police inspector (even though said police officer is working for Jae, no matter if he wants to admit it or not).

Jae throws his arms around the headrests and leans even further between the two guys. He beams at one and then at the other, obviously delighted at the situation.

“Do you know where we can get some nice drugs?”

“Aren’t you the drug lord here?” Eric retorts, finally turning the ignition and pulling onto the street.

Which reminds Jae of the fact that he has a car but no license. He should call Chan—or better ask Wonpil if he can get him another one. That car can be damned, it’s Brian’s anyway. Jae should have crashed it into a building or something like that, just for good measure.

Oh. His gun’s still in there.

Nah, who cares. He has some others laying around home.

Time to go home now, he guesses.

“What did I miss while being away?”

Kevin only stoically looks out of the window with his arms crossed. Eric isn’t that much antagonistic.

“Not much, the streets have been quiet for some time now. Obviously, that’s the calm before the storm. However, we don’t have much time on hands because of that celebrity that was brutally slandered.”

Jae hums distractedly. “You know who did it?”

Brian killed Sammy. Or, hired someone to kill Sammy. G-Dragon maybe. Maybe Eric knows more.

“No,” he shakes his head. What a shame. “I was hoping you could tell me more about it.” Eric pulls into another street that seems familiar to Jae. “Because I’m pretty sure _eye for an eye_ is some mob slang.”

Jae cocks his head in thought. He doesn’t see the value in hiding the truth. “Let’s just say that the celebrity’s some innocent bystander who had the wrong friends.” At least then Eric would stop snooping around in Sammy’s life. He surely doesn’t have to find Jae’s old life through him.

Eric groans in response. “But an idol? The media are slandering the police because our investigation turned out to be fruitless.”

“Poor inspector,” Jae coos.

“Honestly though, can you tell me who killed him?”

Jae purses his lips in thought. Can he trust Eric? Does it matter if he trusts Eric or not? In the grand scheme? Jae honestly doesn’t know. He is kind of in a loop right now.

He decides eventually. “G-Dragon did it.”

For the second time of the day, Jae sits in a car that does a hard stop. He flies back into his seat harshly, getting his breath shoved out of his lungs. In the front, Eric, baffled, whips around to him.

“Did you say G-Dragon killed him?”

“That I did,” Jae grumbles under his breath. His finger scratches against his neck to relieve the itching on his skin there. Fucking bruises. “Is it that surprising that a former kingpin murders people for revenge?”

“What revenge?” Kevin suddenly pipes in very much interested because ups, Jae said a bit too much. Or not. They kind of already know what is going on. Jae is confused. He needs to get a grip on himself.

“For Jennie’s death.”

Kevin angles his body further towards Jae, his eyes glinting with something. He looks like a dog who got a good whiff of a hot trail.

“What was your relationship with Kim Woosung?”

Jae regards him closely. He suddenly feels tired and in no mood to speak about it anymore. His relationship to Sammy is only his to know and no one else to explore.

“None. None at all.”

And that’s that.

~~~

Home sweet home.

The last bit of his drive home with the two police inspectors is tense and quiet. Jae denies them any further answer and only lays back into his seat, his eyes dropping then and now once exhaustion takes over his body. Eric mulls over something with his fingers playing on the wheel and Kevin studiously looks out of the window.

He is so glad when they finally arrive. He nearly jumps out of the car and ascends the stairs hurriedly. His heart has ached for his home for so long, his bed, his chair, the big windows. Jae only wants to look down on the city again with rain prattling against the window, Jae untouchable through the glass. Although, it is the bed that Jae is looking forward to the most. Sleep. That would be very nice after the nightmare last night.

When he enters the flat, he knows immediately that he is not alone here. Two people even. It doesn’t need a wizard to find that out, not with the two foreign pairs of shoes sitting in front of him.

At least his guests have manners.

One step, and Jae remembers that he knows one pair of those shoes. Second step, relief fills his body as he realizes to whom they belong. Third step, and he stops. He knows the owner of the second pair, too. Anger fills his veins, and he starts to stomp down the hallway.

He hasn’t even arrived properly in the living room when he lurches forward to get at Chan’s throat. He only gets the lapel of his shirt, albeit Chan yells in surprise at Jae’s hard tug, protesting when he drags him through the room.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” When Chan doesn’t move an inch Jae tugs harder, his teeth clenched. He ignores his subordinate’s pleas to listen to him and doesn’t stop pulling at the shirt. It’s chaos until the third person raises his voice.

“Chan, get out.”

Jae and Chan stop meddling with each other and whip their heads toward the calm and void voice. A shiver runs down Jae’s spine, his eyes meeting the dark one’s of the hitman who has currently a gun aimed at them.

Chan takes a step away from Jae. “Wonpil-hyung, I need to explain—”

“Now.”

Wonpil’s voice sounds firm and leaves no room for a discussion, especially not with the threat of the gun pointed directly at Chan’s head.

Jae’s heart bursts with excitement. Leave it to Wonpil to sort out his shit and while doing so looking like the epitome of coolness. He has his trademark expression on his face: blank, unbothered and yet threatening with the shadow over his eyes. He sits in Jae’s chair, legs crossed and the hand with the gun sitting comfortable atop his knees.

Looking between Wonpil and Jae twice, Chan bows in front of them before leaving hurriedly. A breath that Jae has been holding since entering the room escapes his throat, and his heart normalizes its beating.

“Thanks,” he croaks to Wonpil, then proceeds to fall into the couch, face front.

He hears some shuffling. The seat next to him dips and a warm hand rakes through his hair.

“I was worried, hyung.” Wonpil ruffles through his hair in good will. “I've been sitting here for hours ever since Younghyun-hyung called me.”

“Don’t talk about that bastard,” Jae groans loudly. He rolls around to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m done with him.”

Wonpil frowns slightly at him, eyes searching for something on his face. “Is it that bad?”

Jae pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes, sighing deeply. “No. It’s even worse.”

Brian is a fucking traitor. Not only to Jae, but to the family as well. He betrays the whole mob with his little game. His life lies in Jae’s hands right now.

What should he do now about it?

“Chan seems to be upset. Is he involved in this?”

Jae nods. “You interested in a job? I might need a new assistant.”

He yelps when Wonpil suddenly flicks against his forehead. “Don’t be too hard on him,” he chides Jae with a motherly tone. “Channie only did what Younghyun-hyung told him to. That guy is like a dog, loyal but naïve.”

“But he should be my loyal dog and not Brian’s,” Jae whines childishly while he grabs a pillow to push it against his chest.

Jae doesn’t act childish. He is petulant to believe that his behavior shows how mature he is. He hasn’t told anyone but Wonpil about Brian’s traitorous plans because Jae knows that Sungjin wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate the threat to his business. Brian did make him lose a lot of money. Even though Jae is the target of his plans, in the end it is Sungjin who is affected by it the most. Sure, maybe Jae’s whole life has turned around way beyond the point of return, but Sungjin suffers from the economic consequences.

But honestly, Jae doesn’t give a fuck about money.

(No, he does like the money, only because of the freedom it gives him.)

The ceiling doesn’t hold any answers for Jae. It’s albeit better than looking at Wonpil whose eyes are drilling holes into his face. It prickles against his skin being watched like this. He consciously tries not to react to it. Wonpil has answers, Jae doesn’t want them because Wonpil’s answers aren’t those he wants to hear.

“Where have you been last night?”

With a loud groan, Jae throws the pillow into Wonpil’s face who, as expected, catches it with one hand and throws it far away.

“You aren’t my mom,” Jae huffs as he rolls around to face the backrest. His eyes burn from being dry. This hangover is threatening to blow up his head. Thinking about Brian doesn’t make it any better. Wonpil’s piercing stare doesn’t help at all.

Jae groans again and surrenders. “I was in a club, drunk too much and can’t remember anything.” When Wonpil cocks his eyebrow, Jae starts to pout in return. “Maybe I had a one-night stand in a motel.” Hands are being crossed over a chest, Jae sighs heavily. “He gave me cocaine for it, okay?”

“Jaehyung!”

“Don’t ‘Jaehyung’ me, mom! You sound like Sungjin when he’s scandalized,” Jae retorts annoyed.

Wonpil, obviously as scandalized as Sungjin usually is, hasn’t finished with his interrogation yet.

“Is that why you were arrested?”

“No, that’s ‘cause of the road race.”

“A road race?” Wonpil asks baffled, then shakes his head when Jae hums in confirmation. “Did you at least win the race?”

Give it to Wonpil to make him smile a bit. A teensy-tiny bit but there it is, a small quirk of his lips. It quickly vanishes again when he thinks about the fucker from that morning.

“No, he unfortunately pissed off as soon as the police came.”

Hopefully, something awful happens to him. (Hopefully not, Jae feels immediately bad for wishing him bad things. God, he needs a break.)

“Thank god you made it home in one piece.”

Something inside tucks at Jae’s heart when he sees Wonpil’s blank stance break into something exhausted. The way his shoulders sink down in relief and his whole body goes from controlled rigid to relaxed exhaustion. Jae feels really bad about worrying the younger.

He reaches out to push the bangs out of Wonpil’s face, cradling his face in the process. Wonpil feels warm and soft. The form of his face is familiar to his palm, as if it was sculpted over the years to rest in there.

It doesn’t feel like Younghyun, though. Younghyun’s high cheekbones, sharp jawline, just everything. Softness that meets sharpness in a way that can be described as beyond beauty. Jae is so hung up about the sheer beauty of Younghyun, something that is too valuable to stain it with darkness.

How does he do it?

Keeping such a beauty to himself? Jae sees it in everything Younghyun does, _is_ ; an innocent and untainted abstract thing and yet, Younghyun carries around much more darkness in him than Jae does.

Why isn’t Wonpil ever as beautiful as him?

Wonpil’s eyes are soft, a deep brown that promises so much more to find and here Jae is, missing a certain glint to it that makes him feel… this undefined, blurred feeling. Wonpil is all soft and dangerous, everything that Younghyun has to him as well. But still, Jae can’t find it in Wonpil.

The way Wonpil’s eyes shift from dark brown to something fragile with golden freckles – Jae feels his breath being stolen by his own sentiments. A mirror of two broken souls that try to pick each other up.

“Don’t do something like that again.” Wonpil lays his head back against the couch, his black locks falling into his eyes. He regards Jae with a glistening in his eyes, deep and sorrowful. A rare sight. “What if you’ve gone missing—”

“I’m here, though, aren’t I?” Jae nuzzles his face into Wonpil’s neck, fully aware that it isn’t Jae’s place to do so anymore. There is already someone waiting for Wonpil, someone who deserves him so much more than Jae ever could. Wonpil and Dowoon find solace in each other. Someone who is ready to offer them their whole heart, unlike Jae.

It’s hard to give away a heart that isn’t his to own anymore.

“Do you want to talk about it? About Younghyun-hyung?”

A shoulder to cry into is what Wonpil offers to him. Jae, however, doesn’t want it. He wants comfort, someone’s arms around him, but he doesn’t want to cry. Now isn’t the time for that.

“There isn’t anything to talk about. Things happened and now I’m done with him. That’s it.”

He clings further to Wonpil, breathing in his scent. It’s calming, especially in combination with the silence around him.

Wonpil pats his back as he returns the hug softly. “Okay,” he sighs into Jae’s hair.

That is what Wonpil is for Jae, a calm amidst the storm. What a smart move it was to take Wonpil away from him.

Jae really is a fool, huh?

“Wonpil-ah?” Jae whispers with a wet voice, swallowing hard. He feels the younger’s body stiffen slightly, just for a moment.

“Yeah?”

There is so much to tell. So many things he is feeling right now. His memories and experiences. It feels hard to think about it. It feels even harder to try talking about it.

Jae is a coward.

So, he says “Nothing” instead and hides his face into Wonpil’s neck even further. When Wonpil hums to make him continue, Jae pulls off of him and stares at the fingers in his lap.

“Do me a favor and search for the guy from tonight, okay? He’s a risk to our—me—you know.”

“Okay.”

And that’s not a pitying ‘okay’. Just a simple ‘okay’ because Wonpil gets it. Gets what Jae means in reality. They don’t speak what they know of to make reality seem a bit brighter. It’s hypocritical, yes, but it helps him sleep through the night and keep a bit of peace for his mind.

At the end of the day, Wonpil is a hitman who shows no mercy when it comes down to it and Jae has just given him a new mission because some unfortunate soul was unlucky enough to meet him.

~~~

What is the beauty of Kang Younghyun?

Is it when Jae looks into Younghyun’s eyes, he sees the stars reflected in the dark orbs, shining bright as if he is looking up into the sun while he only looks at Jae the whole time, a content smile lingering on his face?

Or how the bright smiles that make his eyes crunch up cutely and show his pearl-white teeth steal every last of his breath until he feels as light as if he could fly?

Maybe it’s how every touch sets him on fire while Younghyun keeps dragging him down into the deep ocean, further into the void and darkness.

Jae doesn’t know what exactly the beauty of Kang Younghyun is—only that he can’t stop longing for it with every breath he takes or every beat his heart makes.

Wetness clings to him like a second skin. His hair plastered to his forehead, drops falling from his eyelashes. Are they rain or are they tears?

Jae is drenched in rain, surrounded by water all around him, no air to breathe. Yet, all he can see is this figure far away. A single lone island mocks him in the background, a single reminder that Jae is only floating, too deep and too far away from any solid land for him to reach. The shallow is a place he hasn’t ever seen in his haste of falling.

Younghyun stood on that island. No water drops from him form. His black hair flows with the wind. So far away, so high up.

Still, Younghyun doesn’t look down to search for him. He looks directly into Jae’s eyes, no higher or deeper than him. They are equals in every sense, prisoner of two different worlds.

Jae—does he want to breathe?

He doesn’t know anymore. Only that Younghyun stares at him intensely. No smile, no shine, a blank face void of all emotion. Younghyun scares him like that because the man that Jae has met and learned to love is expressive, full of love and happiness.

When did Younghyun lose this?

Has he ever owned it?

Was he happy with Jae?

Jae was happy with him.

Even when he was drowning in the world that Younghyun showed him. Even when his white innocence got tainted with harsh black spots. Even when all the colors of the sky turned black with the night. Jae was happy as long as he could keep Younghyun by his side.

Was all of that a lie?

Is Jae still drowning for nothing at all?

Is this the harsh reality he will wake up to?

His heart trashes when he awakes with a start. He doesn’t comprehend how he wakes up in his bed, too focused on stumbling through the room. He reaches his closet, thank god, pushes himself along the wall. Jae falls over something on his way, maybe shoes, maybe not. It doesn’t matter. Not when his fingers finally reach his safe. The metal feels cold beneath his fingers when he pushes button for button. All thanks to muscle memory while his sight is too blurred to see anything.

He searches around to find what he wants. His fingers clamp around the harsh metal of a gun. His brain slow circuits and he throws it behind him with a desperate groan. It’s easier to find the bag now, its contents spilling out of it.

To his feet lie the many drugs that Chan has given him weeks ago. His fingers reach out before he halts. What should he take? The cocaine only makes things worse. He can’t roll a joint in his state with his fingers trembling hard. He could take a pill, but he can’t differentiate between mood makers and opiates.

There. His trusty pillbox.

Jae hates his sleeping pills. It makes him sleep worse and exhaustion follows him then more than on any other night. Now it seems to be the better option. Just sleep. He doesn’t want to think about Younghyun anymore. Just sleep. He shakes out the pills and takes them dry, one, maybe two, he doesn’t know.

Just sleep.

Only that the world gets dark around the edges before he hears a cry.

Next thing he knows he is throwing up into the toilet bowl. His own retching rings too loud in his ears. Someone pats his backs and murmurs words of comfort to him.

 _Wonpil,_ his mind helpfully supplies.

Jae leans his head against the bathtub once he is finished. He feels burnt out and tired. His throat aches. Everything aches. He lulls his head and—

Someone slaps him in the face. His hand shoots up to his reddening cheek while he yelps out of pain. His mind is clearer now, thanks for that.

“What were you thinking?!”

Jae’s head whips up to Wonpil—where before the sight of exhausted Wonpil was aching, this is so much worse. There are tears glistening in his eyes, mirroring something broken and scared. Wonpil looks deeply upset and angry.

Oh.

This is what happened.

“It was an accident,” Jae tries to explain with his voice being hoarse. “I couldn’t see or think—”

“Promise me it was only an accident.” Wonpil sounds less scared now, yet so much firmer and urgent. “Promise me that you didn’t try to kill yourself.”

“Never—I mean, I promise.” Jae shakes his head slowly, winces as the movement only worsens his headache. “I would never try to kill myself like that.”

Jae has other self-destructive things going on that Wonpil doesn’t need to know about.

He suddenly finds himself in between two warm arms again. They may feel like home.

Only maybe.

Because all he could think of is the lack of Younghyun.

Younghyun makes him feel like being home. Wonpil isn’t Younghyun. Wonpil isn’t home.

Jae has never in his life ever felt so alone before.

And maybe dying doesn’t sound so scary anymore.

~~~

His hand trails over his throat, down to his neck and back up again. The soft touch doesn’t affect him much, not when he can still remember a foreign touch to his skin. The awaited eruption of skin doesn’t happen, it doesn’t tickle, nothing. Numbness has taken him over again; pushing away the horrid feeling of being betrayed.

His throat feels hoarse, inside and out. Throwing up last night still tastes bitter in his mouth. Looking at his throat makes the bile rise again.

A painting of marks scattered all over there like the surface of the sea amidst the sunrise. His skin is tinted in lilacs and blues, some fading into yellow and green. It doesn’t sting when he pushes lightly against it. He doesn’t feel anything.

“It looks like someone molested you.”

Jae doesn’t startle. Only his eyes wander to the corner of the mirror where he sees Wonpil reflected in. The younger leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. That worried and pitying look in his eyes hasn’t vanished at all since last night.

Jae puts on the turtleneck and gets his hair out of his face with a hairband. He needs to see Jamie. The supermarket dye is washing out lightly, it looks horrible. His roots are showing and those are black too.

“No one attacked me,” Jae eventually says when Wonpil doesn’t move an inch. He hopes that a little bit of reassurance will make the hitman go away. On the contrary, Wonpil makes his way over to Jae and takes the sponge out of his hand to put the make-up onto Jae’s face and neck himself.

It should be cute how Wonpil stands on tiptoes to get a better view of Jae. It isn’t. Jae still can’t bring himself to feel anything.

Wonpil works in silence for a while. When Jae closes his eyes to let the other apply eyeshadow on it, Wonpil admits, “I know.” Jae lets his eyes closed. He knows that the eyeliner comes next. Wonpil loves to play dress up with Jae, so they have already established some kind of routine to that. “You had those marks back then, too, when you were still with Younghyun-hyung.”

“Can we maybe not—”

“You know that there’s the possibility of him being there today?”

Wonpil sets the brush softly down and instructs Jae to open his eyes. He starts to apply midnight black mascara.

“He still belongs to this family as long as you don’t tell Sungjin what he did.”

Wonpil’s words, no matter how often Jae has told them to himself before, feel like a hard punch to his face. He doesn’t need to affirm that Wonpil is right because it’s very simple. Brian is a traitor to the family and traitors have no place in this world. In fact, they get executed by very cruel methods in front of their mob.

One time, Jae was told about someone getting his ribs ripped out to let them stand apart like wings. Even thinking about that makes his skin crawl and he wants to throw up even more.

“I don’t know what I should do.”

A total lie. Jae knows what he will do about this. Well, not exactly, but he knows that he won’t tell Sungjin a thing. For some time. Maybe never. He doesn’t know. Brian, even though Jae really wants to get as far away from him as he can get, deserves to be in this family more than Jae. It had been his father who was the head of the mob before Sungjin. Plus, Jae isn’t any better than Brian with him being a traitor as well.

“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.” Wonpil flicks against his forehead to make Jae look up. There is a smile lingering on Wonpil’s face that expresses much more faith in Jae than he deserves.

“We should go.” Jae turns away from Wonpil and leaves the room to pack his things on his bed. His new phone goes into his pockets, so does his wallet. A golden watch curls around his puny wrist and glasses are being perched onto his nose. He eyes the pack of cigarettes that somehow got thrown into there and his heart aches when he sees the label.

The same one that Brian smokes when he is too stressed.

Steps follow him into the room, so Jae hastily pockets the cigarettes, then takes the last thing: a new (old) gun from his safe, cleaned and armed with enough munition. Jae tucks the gun into his belt and faces then Wonpil. His blank face is back again.

Just like Jae wants it.

The gun presses hard against his back the whole ride. It serves as a burning reminder of the night two days ago. The shot still rings through his ears. He doesn’t know what has overcome him to do such thing. Without a thought, he pulled the trigger and fired a shot.

He didn’t look back to see what he hit. Too scared of the truth.

He shot at Brian.

And somehow, he doesn’t regret it at all.

Has Seoul ever looked so gray like right now? Where are the people wandering through the streets? Where are the many different shades of shirts they are wearing? Seoul is bland.

Streets are busy but everyone wears so much black and white and gray. Jae hates it so much. He wishes it would rain instead of being so cloudy. The world mocks him. He has lost the ability to see the color in it. What a pity.

Sungjin’s tower looks much higher than in Jae’s memories. A threatening giant that nearly tears the sky in half, gray windows shining in the barely existing light, mixing colors with the monotonous sky.

The walk to the elevator feels much like walking into his pending doom. People are eyeing him with mixed emotions, Jae sees everything from curiosity to fear. People regard him as an anomaly because they all know that Jae shouldn’t be here.

Not when Sungjin had sent him away to protect them all from the wrath of one angry ex-kingpin.

Jae swallows hard when they stand in the elevator. He is alone with Wonpil there, both facing the closed doors. Jae doesn’t stand next to Wonpil but behind. His back presses against the mirror, the mirror presses his gun into his back.

One by one the floors go by, one by one the questions shoot through Jae’s mind.

Will he be there? Will he be angry? Or relieved?

Will Jae confess?

A pling echoes through the silence. The doors open and Jae— He can’t do anything more than holding his breath in nervous anticipation. When Wonpil sets in motion, Jae does the same. His heart beats hard against his chest, his stomach churns. His fingers twitch in hopes of finally doing something. The cigarettes burn against his thigh.

They enter Sungjin’s office and the first thing Jae notices is the lack of smoke. Better said—the lack of the smell. There is no cigarette stench in this room, only the burning sensation of window cleaner. The office looks tidied up and empty.

Except for Dowoon and Sungjin no one else is in here.

No Brian.

Thank god.

The breath he has been holding finally escapes from his lungs and Jae somewhat feels much lighter than before. His shoulders sag in obvious relief while sits down in his favored seat, where his eyes immediately meet Sungjin’s narrowed ones.

“You’re finally here,” Sungjin speaks after seconds of watching Jae, tearing his eyes away to the other two in the room. “Brian may not manage to get here on time, so let’s begin for now.”

Wonpil takes a small step forward and bows his head in front of Sungjin. “It’s my fault we’re late. Traffic's bad this morning.”

A blatant lie, and Jae sees in Sungjin’s slight frown that he knows too.

Nonetheless, he seems to let it go. “It’s alright. I’m just—” He lets out a sudden deep sigh while he leans back into his seat. “In regard to the current situation, I’m just glad that nothing happened to you.”

Wonpil sits down next to Dowoon on the couch. Their thighs meet, so do their fingers. A subtle gesture that Jae doesn’t miss to notice. If only his heart wouldn’t ache at the sigh.

His neck tingles in a most familiar sensation. Jae whips his head up to see Sungjin glaring at him.

Shit.

“Most importantly,” Sungjin says slowly with those dark eyes fixated on Jae’s form. “I’m curious about what did happen that you suddenly decided to come back to Seoul.”

The moment of truth. The words lie heavy on Jae’s tongue. It’s simple, really. He could tell Sungjin his deductions and how Brian confessed his crimes and then plead for his boss to spare Brian a painful death. A simple death would be enough. Or maybe just exiling him to Canada or something like that.

Or he could let things rest and leave him to his fate. Brian is the traitor and Jae has no business in his punishment. On the contrary, Jae should be delighted at the thought of him being punished.

Ugh.

He is turning in circles. Hadn’t he already decided that he would keep it to himself? Because Brian deserves this family more than he? And that Jae isn’t any better?

Why even is he considering turning Brian in?

Jae shuffles around in his much uncomfortable seat to find a better way to sit. A way that hides the tremble of his fingers. He licks over his lips and wills his eyes to stay the fuck open.

“Brian and I had some differences that we couldn’t get over.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sungjin suddenly curses. “I’m fed up of your childish feud with him. I thought you talked it out while he was in the hospital, so what the hell happened?!”

 _Brian tried to kill me, duh!_ Jae wants to say but doesn’t. Instead, he blurts the next best thing that comes to his mind. “He’s an annoying prick who can’t keep it in his pants, that’s what happened!”

Sungjin flinches in his seat and looks flustered while Dowoon's frown deepens in confusion and Wonpil—

Is he hiding a grin behind his fist?

Swear to god, leave it to Wonpil to cackle gleefully at Jae trapping himself in a web of lies that are embarrassing enough to tell.

“I—You—” Sungjin stutters through his next sentences flustered. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just don’t.” When Wonpil giggles again, Jae snaps, “And stop laughing, you snake!”

“Sorry, hyung, that’s just—” Wonpil never finishes the sentence that gets lost in the way he doubles over in his laughter.

Jae tries very hard not to stab him or something like that because for one, Jae might accidentally stab himself by doing so and two, Wonpil is a professional killer who can kill Jae before he is even aware what happened.

“Forget about it,” Sungjin eventually gives up with a deep sigh. “You’re back and we need a new plan. G-Dragon is still out there and hates you very much. I’m concerned about your security.”

Jae clicks with his tongue. “I’m touched, but this situation is my fault and I’d like to take care of it by myself.”

Jae has thought about that. Only for a few minutes, but he really has thought about that. There aren’t many options that Jae has here.

First, he could let Sungjin form a plan. Jae as his right hand would be his advisor and had thus the overview of what is happening right there. The problem, though? This is too much of a wild card. Jae would be serving only as an advisor but wouldn't have any power to change plans if he didn't like them. And there is much potential for things he wouldn’t like at all.

Second, he could make Wonpil head of investigation. Wonpil has much proven that he is loyal to Jae and Jae would risk that. Trusting him that is. Wonpil knows what he has to do and to say and even more, knows what things shouldn’t get out into the world. But even here, Jae isn’t sure if he wants that. He doesn’t have any control over how things will progress if he lets Wonpil do his thing.

Which is very counterproductive for his plan.

The one where he betrays Sungjin and all of them, you know?

This only leaves one last option for Jae: he needs to take over the reins.

“Are you sure about it, Jae?” Sungjin intertwines his hands over the desk, the corners of his mouth tugging down. “Are you able to leave your personal feelings out of it?”

No, he probably won’t and they both know that. Jae is much emotionally driven, even if he prides himself as the methodical and clear-headed guy of their group. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come this far if he had only followed his emotions.

(He would have long gone mad if he hadn’t been able to shut off this part of himself.)

But here, in this situation—

“This _is_ personal, boss.” His eyes are set hard on Sungjin, who raises his eyebrow. “I made this personal when Brian killed Seunghyun. G-Dragon only passed a favor. Believe me, me getting emotional over this may be the only way to win this war.”

“I much prefer not to go to war with G-Dragon at all,” Sungjin hisses. “We have no chance against him. His people are everywhere in this city and they are still loyal to him.”

“Sungjin,” Jae says firm and determined. “I know what I’m doing. Just trust me.”

“Jae, I—”

“Trust him.”

All heads turn instantly to Wonpil.

“Jae has proven to be smart and good with people, hasn’t he?” Wonpil continues, unbothered by the stares he receives. “I trust him. He can do it.”

Sungjin watches him for a few seconds, tugging at his lips in thought until he eventually sighs and turns back to Jae.

“Okay, I’ll trust you. Just-- don’t fuck it up.”

His heart plummets at the look Sungjin gives him. It speaks so much that contradicts the words he has just spoken. Sungjin doesn’t trust him on this. He gives him the benefit of the doubt.

For the first time ever, Jae doubts his own ability. Is Sungjin seeing something he doesn’t? Does Sungjin know something that reigns him in on Jae’s plans?

Maybe he should tell him about Brian? He would then be distracted for some time.

Fuck.

Jae suddenly longs to be back in Ilsan, lying in Younghyun’s arms and letting the sun shine down on their faces, no worries at all. A quiet afternoon with tea and the TV in the background, their lips attached to each other.

A life outside of this is still tinted with the existence of Younghyun in his life. Jae has to get used to never have this again.

“Is this meeting over?”

Wonpil stands up from his place and buttons up the jacket he is wearing. He looks from one face to another, resting on his boss’s. “I have something urgent today,” he explains then. A glance to Jae tells him much about what he wants to do.

He has to find a small drug dealer and make him shut up for good.

Jae grimaces at the thought.

Sungjin, on the other side, only shakes his head. “We have some news. Dowoon, if you may?”

Dowoon nods and also stands up, looking into the room with his hands behind his back.

“The YoungK is finally visited well again after the shooting weeks ago. People are bustling in and out and even less are asking for Younghyun-hyung. They get used to me being the new manager of the YoungK.”

Right, right. Dowoon was supposed to follow Brian around to take over the casino, so that Brian can fuck off to the States. Jae has nearly forgotten about that.

Dowoon clears his throat when he sees that he has lost Jae’s attention. Jae perks up and smiles at him innocently.

“Although, Felix told me about some guy mixing with the crowd every day.” The way he looks directly at Jae doesn’t mean anything good. “He told me one of Kim Namjoon’s underling is sniffing around the place for some time.”

Huh?

“One of Namjoon-ssi’s guys?” Wonpil asks baffled. “What is he doing in the YoungK?”

Jae knows what he is doing there, that he has been there for some time to watch over Jae. And Jae knows that Brian knows about this as well. And if Felix is part of Brian’s little group, then he does so, too.

Which then leads to the question: why? Why did he tell Dowoon about that?

Dowoon shrugs with his shoulders. “I don’t know exactly why, but we’re thinking about interrogating the guy. He could have helped the other guy breaking into Younghyun-hyung’s office months ago.”

“Do that,” Sungjin approves with a nod. “I’m very interested in what Namjoon wants from our casino. The only thing of interest for him was sold long ago.”

“The deal with EXO stands?” Jae interrupts. The Sun is of much interest for Jae either.

“Yes, it does.”

Fuck, Jae actually needs the Sun club for his plan. He has to think about how—

Only that suddenly, the doors open with a loud bang and a figure struts in with a sigh that scares children off the street.

Jae can’t stop his mouth from falling open. A leather jacket that clings to the broad form, black jeans much too tight, strawberry red hair falling into an eye that is underlined with black. Eyes that are intense, piercing directly through Jae’s mind and stealing his breath. The brows are furrowed in distaste and anger, just like the lips are turned down in a firm frown. A deep red line reaches from his left cheek to his ear.

A wound caused by Jae.

Because Jae shot at him.

And only missed his head by inches.

“Younghyun-hyu—” Dowoon shrieks but stops as soon as he sees Brian stalking towards Jae and Jae—

He suddenly finds himself being pressed against a wall with Brian’s hands deeply burrowed into his shirt. Luckily he is taller than Brian, otherwise he would have been lifted off the ground. Jae’s heart misses a few beats when Brian looks at him with anger seething out of him.

Not only anger.

Brian is downright furious.

“What—” He snarls at Jae with fletched teeth. “—did you do to my car?”

Jae whimpers loudly when Brian presses him further into the wall and cuts off his breathing.

This—Jae doesn’t know how to react. He is faced with many different emotions at the same time, he needs a moment to calm himself down.

Which he can’t. Because Brian is pressing him against a wall and doesn’t let Jae breathe correctly. It is, as much as Jae doesn’t want to admit, turning him on. Jae really has a kink of being manhandled.

“Why is the _police_ telling me I can’t have it because someone was driving a street race with it while being high?!”

Fuck, it doesn’t help that Brian is nearly growling at him. He can feel how his blood shoots down and makes him hard. Think of something else, Jae, think of—

Right, Brian trying to kill him. His betrayal is much of a turn off.

Jae lifts his hands and shoves Brian away from him, falling to his knees to finally get a good breath. He sees Brian lunging at him again if it weren't for Wonpil who pulls him back with one simple motion.

“Calm down, hyung!”

Dowoon rushes to Jae and pats his back. He is trying to get a good look at Jae’s neck when Jae finally catches on and pulls back from him. He doesn’t need to see his blue and violet bruises all over there.

“I’m not calming down!” Brian pushes Wonpil away from him. “You let him out of sight just one time and he pulls off this stunt! He could have died, for fuck’s sake! And then—” Brian lunges forward again, Wonpil pulls him back, and Jae flinches with Dowoon back against the wall.

His heart breaks at the vulnerable sight that is Brian. His teeth are fletched, his face set hard in anger but his eyes— they look so broken, glimmering in the light as if tears are pooling in his eyes. Jae hates that he is the reason for this.

This is fucked up in so many different ways.

“Guys, stop this—” Sungjin raises his voice but cuts off when Brian suddenly walks out of the room, just right by the door, and then is pulling in some random guy. Who has his mouth taped together.

The guy’s eyes shuffle in terror from one face to another and when they stop at Jae’s they double in size, similar to Jae’s own. The guy starts to trash around in place, pulling himself up from the floor even with his hands tied at his back. Jae feels the panic rising in his own body at the sheer terror the other experiences.

“Who is that?!” Sungjin demands to know.

Brian only pushes the guy down onto his knees and pulls his head up. The sound of a gun cocking against it make his whimpers grow louder into muffled screams. Brian glances up and stares directly into Jae’s eyes. Something burns in there. Jae’s stomach falls.

Jae shuffles forward on his knees to Brian.

“Brian—”

In this moment, Jae wonders, what even is beauty?

Jae has long established that Brian—Younghyun— is beautiful in every way. The way he looks at him, he smiles at him, he devotes himself to Jae. No matter what he does, if he deals with drugs on their dates, if he vanishes into the night to kill someone, if he rams a knife into Jae’s back, Jae will always find Younghyun beautiful.

Even when he sees those broken eyes pleading him for something, Jae can’t help himself but find some beauty in this man.

Just now, for the first time ever, Jae questions himself for it.

Brian shouldn’t be beautiful. Not when he coldly shoots a guy in front of Jae in some twisted power play.

Blood runs from Jae’s forehead down to his nose, lips and chin. He still can’t stop looking into Brian’s eyes. He looks defeated, sorrowful.

“Why?” Jae whispers brokenly into the room.

Brian takes the gun down and lets the guy go. The body falls onto the floor with a loud thud.

“I found him in a bar when I searched for you. He was talking to some guys about a one-night stand who drives the exact same car that I own.”

“You shot him because you were jealous?” Jae scoffs disbelievingly.

“I shot him--” Brian snaps at him. “--because he was talking to two former members of Bigbang. The world doesn’t revolve around you, you fucking idiot! Stop assuming things and start listening!”

“Oh.”

Brian essentially did what Jae had told Wonpil to. Only in a more dramatic way. Jae feels like throwing up.

“You guys are giving me a headache,” Sungjin murmurs into his hands. “I don’t know if I’m glad that you’re back or not.”

Brian is still staring at him. Intense, piercing. As if he tries to bring a point across to Jae. Jae doesn’t want to hear it.

_This is the world we live in._

His lips taste metallic. Blood. It’s the dead guy’s blood he tastes on his lips.

_This is the things we do._

Jae hastily scrambles towards the next best pot and starts throwing up. He hears Sungjin’s deep sigh and Dowoon’s strangled surprise.

In the end, it's Wonpil who heaves him out of the plant with caressing pats against his back and pulls him out of the room to the next bathroom. Jae glances to Brian on his way out and sees something that makes his nauseas worse.

Pain. Brian looks like he is hurting much worse than Jae has ever been.

~~~

The day is a long one.

After Wonpil brings him home, Jae sends him away immediately. He feels like a child again who needs its mother to function properly. Wonpil gladly takes on that role in that moment, even though Jae protests in embarrassment.

Wonpil goes home with the same amount of protest and then only once he took away every single pill or drug Jae owned. And a promise that Jae calls him if anything happens.

The rest of the day progresses with Jae staring outside. Gray clouds, gray people, gray city. He misses the feeling of looking down to something colorful and exciting. He doesn't find any solace in the prospect of being home.

The first hour, he sleeps restlessly on the couch, waking up every minute from unpleasant thoughts or dreams.

The second hour, he paces around the room and searches through everything that could potentially be a bug.

The third hour, he grows determined to think about his problems.

Jae starts taping everything onto his wall. Every single information he has collected, no matter how small it is, is up on that wall.

Then, he stars at it for hours.

In the middle, _Kim Namjoon_ is written in fat red letters. Right beneath him, _G-Dragon_. And from them a whole network expanded. It looks nearly the same as he had done for Eric Nam in that basement, only that Jae’s wall has all the information he knows about.

And a third name is written next to it in big letters. Jae’s eyes always find their way back to the web around Brian’s name in Jae’s try to find the people he can’t trust anymore. One after one, from Chan over Jisung to Felix, they all are stuck somewhere on the wall.

Once he puts together the relation of someone who seems to be unrelated to them all, Jae’s stomach sinks any further. He moves the name from its place next to _Ten_ to somewhere entirely else.

Jae stares at the wall for hours. A bit later, he adds a date to the top.

_September 7 th _

It’s only days away. A deadline in every sense.

Jae doesn’t mind dying anymore.

That’s why he is going there now.

Jae thought long about it. Sat hours staring at his wall and forming a plan. A better, different plan than before. Many things have changed since the beginning. Jae has changed. He suddenly wants different things than months before.

Jae taps against the armrest and looks through the room. It’s rare for him to be here.

The room is clean to the point that it’s bleak. It doesn’t feel like someone’s home. No pictures, nothing personal.

Jae knows the owner of the flat too well.

The clock is nearing zero o’clock. Midnight.

That person, they like to work late. Evenings are reserved for some needed lone time. They like their time to unwind. Visiting that small ramyun-shop down the street and pay that old woman too much for her service.

They walk down the way home to appreciate the silence of the city. Two bodyguards not too far behind. They don’t tell anyone, but they like to stop at the bench at the park near the flat and watch the empty playground, getting lost in memories.

Yes, Jae knows the owner of the flat too well.

They won’t be surprised finding Jae here because the alarm system alerted them as soon as Jae had put in the code at their door. They won’t hurry down home to see Jae because they know Jae too well, too. Jae isn’t patient, Jae is emotional, Jae tends to speak more honest if he runs out of patience.

But he is okay with that.

The door opens ten minutes before midnight. The person walks in calmly and sets down their things. They take off their shoes and put on their slippers before walking into the living room. Light suddenly fills the room.

“That’s a bit too dramatic, even for you,” Sungjin comments amused when he finds Jae sitting in his armchair, his fingers moving as if he is plotting something bad.

And Jae might do such thing.

“Take a seat,” he motions to the chair opposite of him. Jae has come prepared for the night.

He had stared for hours against the wall and formulated a new plan. He has made decisions that seem risky, but he has no other options.

Sungjin follows his offer and takes a seat, his head not once looking down. As if he knows that this has to happen.

The clock strikes midnight.

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Track 13: I think this is the end, I have to accept it now


	13. Track 13: I think this is the end, I have to accept it now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title by Day6 - Like a flowing wind
> 
> Finally you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ordernchaos2) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/ordernchaos2)! Scream, write or ask my anything, I'm open for every topic!

Jae felt embarrassed when he returned to the living room after throwing up into the potted plant next to the entrance. He entered the room with his head ducked down—a bad idea, really. The cruel sight of a slaughtered delivery boy entered his eyesight. A new wave of nausea hit him hard.

“Sorry for the mess on the floor.”

Jae tore his eyes up to his uninvited guest. He sat there in the chair that usually faced the city; now it had been turned around to have a great overview of his open spaced living room. His guest swirled around a glass whiskey in his fingers, watching him with hawk eyes. A gentle smile rested on his face.

“Sorry I lost my composure for a minute.”

Shame overran his embarrassment. His neck glowed in red from the feeling. He must’ve been a pitiful sight for the king in front of him. A mobster who couldn’t look at a simple corpse bleeding on his floor, what a sight.

“Don’t be,” his guest reassured him calmly. “This isn’t a very appetizing view. Jiminie barely held it in once he saw Jeongguk’s work.”

Jae swallowed hard as he tried to asset the situation. It was rather simple, really, because how else could you interpret Kim Namjoon sitting in your chair with a corpse on your floor after he admitted that his own hitman mangled him like that?

It was a hard day for Jae. His nerves had been strung tight after coming back from a job where Brian suddenly turned up because Wonpil had to leave for an investigation. The prospect of working with Brian in the future dampened his mood immensely. And now Namjoon breaking into his own apartment? A dead delivery boy on the floor?

That’s too much for one day.

“Why did you bring him here?” Jae motioned towards where he thought the body was. He didn’t want to see it again. It’s embarrassing enough to throw up once with Namjoon within ear range.

Namjoon in turn took a small sip from the whiskey and regarded Jae carefully. “Someone put a dead boy in my territory. I only brought him back to where he came from.”

“Minus his organs.”

“Minus his organs.” Namjoon smirked at him charmingly. Deep dimples showed on his face, making him look much younger than he was. Jae would describe the man as attractive, even beautiful with strands of silver hair falling into his face while his forehead was still being shown. Namjoon held himself like a man with power should, his head high and a carefree casual smile always printed on his face.

“See, hyung—I may call you hyung, may I?” When Jae nodded helplessly—because could you really deny anything the man who owned the whole city? — Namjoon’s smile widened further. “I’m here to check up on how the Seunghyun deal went.”

Jae’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “That information got quickly to you.”

Namjoon nodded. “I’ve put some of my newest recruits within your ranks, just to keep an eye on everything.”

Only someone like Namjoon would openly admit sending out spies into other people’s businesses. Jae’s mouth went dry at the thought that there might be people of his that were actually loyal to Namjoon.

“Don’t think that,” Namjoon immediately chided him when he saw the crease grow on Jae’s forehead. “It’s only that one boy for now. I’m not keen on starting a territorial war with your gang. We have bigger plans, right?”

Now Jae was taken aback. “So, you’re in? Completely?”

“Of course, I’m in.” Namjoon abruptly stood up and strutted over to the window. He looked down to the street with one hand casually put into his pockets, the other still carrying that whiskey. He then looked to Jae over his shoulder. “You proposed me a plan of taking down a legacy so I can create my own. Only an idiot or someone with strong determination is willed to even think about dethroning a king that isn’t on the throne anymore.”

“Does that make me an idiot or strong determined?”

The panic slowly ebbed away when he realized that Namjoon wasn’t here to put him in any harm’s way. He was actually here because Namjoon was genuinely interested in pulling off this doomed plan. A plan he had been working on for months now.

Jae held his chin high. His eyes challenged those of Namjoon’s. May he say what he wanted to, Jae knew that he had the king in his hands. Or at least, in his plans.

“It depends.” Namjoon walked forward to Jae again, put down the whiskey on the desk. Their eyes met and Jae, for the first time that night, became aware of the fact that Namjoon was as tall as he was.

“On what?”

“What you want out of this deal.” Namjoon sighed before he brought his fingers up. He straightened Jae’s lapels, a smile always set on his face. “I don’t doubt your determination. You proved me that much tonight. You just haven’t told me yet what you get out of our deal.”

Should he trust a man who wore the title as the most powerful man in Seoul? Someone who had so much blood on his hands and a fierce will and strong determination to change the world to his likings? Jae had done his research about the king before. At first glance, Namjoon looked like a humble man who worked hard for the things he accomplished. At second glance, Jae found a much more loyal fellowship behind a simple man who only did what he deemed right.

One thing Jae could be sure of: Namjoon wasn’t one to betray. He was a genius who could play people like marionettes. Jae had to be careful to lay his life in Namjoon’s hands.

Although, did Jae have that much of a choice?

Jae lightly pushed the hands of the other away and straightened his lapels by himself. He looked Namjoon deep in the eye. There was so much space between them and yet, Jae could see an endless ocean inside those orbs, stars reflecting on the surface.

“What I want, Kim Namjoon,” Jae slowly said, watching the reaction closely, “is a way out.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. His smile deepened with his charming dimples widening. “Out?”

“Yes, _out_. Out of business, out of Seoul, out of this whole goddamn life.”

Years.

It had been years since Jae had joined Six more or less voluntarily. Years of him living a life that he wasn’t deemed fit to, that he hated more than anything. Jae had worked hard to achieve everything. He conned people, he watched them hurting, he watched them dying. There was so much blood on his path, the shadows of nightmares and terror always lurking behind him.

Jae had enough of this life.

So, he did what he had to.

He connected people. Tried to figure out who wanted what and how they could get it. The more powerful, the better. He found a cellar room in an abandoned building, put up a board and made his plans.

He knew what he needed. Had it planned to a tee, ready for every other unpredictable incident. He was sure. This was the beginning of an end. His end.

The response he got took him aback. Namjoon’s gentle smile turned into a blinding grin. He stuck out his hand over a corpse bleeding on Jae’s marble floor for a deal to make.

“I like you, Park Jaehyung. You are a fighter, something that isn’t found much in many people. Let’s do this then.”

A compliment from the Kim Namjoon. Jae would have a field day if his stomach wouldn’t be knotted so hard. Namjoon approved of his side of the deal, so why was Jae so anxious about it?

Jae shook the hand with tight closed lips. The smell of rotten blood invaded his nose again. He needed to get rid of the corpse as soon as possible.

Namjoon climbed over the corpse on his way out. His fingers follow the sideboard on Jae’s walls before he halted and looked over his shoulder.

“I hope you realize that I won’t tolerate any betrayal? Once you are in, you’re in. You want out? Then only on the street’s term. Except if you hold your part of your deal, then I’ll bring you far away from here.” He faced Jae fully, putting his hands in his pockets. “I have eyes and ears everywhere. Look out for my guys, alright? Otherwise, Jeonggukie is coming after you.” Jae swallowed at the audible threat somewhere hidden in Namjoon’s small speech. “What is the next step?”

Jae calmly (hastily) scrambled for an enveloped hidden in a drawer, pulling it out for Namjoon to inspect. Said man turned it between his fingers before opening, his eyes moving as he took in every word.

“I’ll pay the producer a visit, see if I can get him hooked up with our drug business as compensation for killing Seunghyun,” Jae went to explain.

“Then I hope that everything goes well. I must confess… I have a personal interest in his label.”

Jae knew.

Because Jae had done his research.

“I’ll make sure that everything goes well.”

Namjoon nodded for a last time, the smile lightly vanishing from his face. “Then wait for my message, hyung. Don’t disappoint me. And in the meantime, I’ll get to the ground of… this.” He motioned with his chin towards the dead boy on the floor.

Right.

There was that.

When Namjoon left, Jae started to hope. And to despair. Was this a good idea? Making a pact with the devil? Jae was greedy. He longed for a life he gave up a long time ago. Now, he sold his soul to get out of his mistake.

Jae couldn’t do anything wrong anymore. Namjoon would kill him. And if Sungjin found out… he’s dead anyway.

Jae was dead in any scenario except for the one where he did it.

This was so much pressure.

He sank down in his chair, the place still warm from Namjoon’s own body heat.

He had much to think about.

Very much.

~~~

First things first.

With a fresh start to a fresh week, Jae thinks it is time for a clean-up. He has a list in his head of things that needs to be done and even better a super nice app on his phone where he can write down said to-do list.

A clean-up is essential for what is about to come. His well-thought out plans have undergone a change and now he needs an overview of the situation again. Then where better to start than with the trouble Brian has caused him?

This brings him to right where he is now, the warehouse at the outskirts of the city. It is after all Jae’s main base of operation. Here is where he makes his living. A high-up apartment in the middle of Seoul isn’t that cheap to keep and his drugs are the sole reason for him to be swimming in money. Luckily, he got to throw a look into the books which finally showed him green numbers again instead of the massive lost they made thanks to Brian’s stupid plans. All thanks to Sungjin’s (more problematic) deal with EXO.

The warehouse hasn’t changed much since he had last been here. There are drugs, there are people and no shady things are (hopefully) going on anymore. Jae, however, knows better and instantly strides over to where Chan is leaned against a wall to check some paper.

Jae snaps the paper away and looks at it while Chan gasps loudly and profusely sputters many excuses for his wrongdoings.

“Save it,” Jae cuts him off after he deems the papers as unsuspicious and takes pity on the younger. “This is going to be quick.”

Chan hurriedly shakes his head and bows much too often in front of him. “Hyung, let me explain, please? I know it looks really bad but Younghyun-hyung told me—”

“I don’t care what Brian told you,” Jae snaps angrily at him. “You proved me who you are loyal to, full stop. What Brian did is one thing, but you going behind my back, scaring off _my_ delivery boys, setting fire to _my_ stash and even going as far as killing one of the boys, that’s another thing. This is all on you, Bang Chan.”

His words may be harsh, but they are nothing but the truth. Jae is tired of all the lies and excuses. From now on he wants things to be done like they should’ve been done in the first place. If he says jump, people will goddamn jump, otherwise he sees himself to take some much-needed measures.

Chan shakes his head again with some desperation. “You have to hear me out, please. You don’t know the whole story—”

“And I don’t want to know it.” Jae heaves a heavy sigh and pushes the paper into Chan’s chest. “Don’t worry, you can keep your job. For now. I don’t have time to search for a substitute and you are kind of good at whatever you’re doing.” Jae doesn’t want to give Chan the satisfaction of smiling, so when the younger’s lips flinch upwards, he takes a step forward and winds his fingers around Chan’s throat. “Just don’t forget. If you only think about playing me again, Wonpil will hunt down those shop and post office boys, capice?”

He can feel Chan swallowing under his palm and a light nod straining the muscles there. He let go of the younger and steps back again, straightening the other’s shirt in a calm gesture. Calm but threatening, nonetheless.

Just a safety measure so Chan knows his place. Jae is very much capable of being terrifying, a skill that stuck with him after all those years of being a mobster.

“Just do your job, Channie, and no one’s in harm’s way.”

He waits for Chan if he has something to say about and then when nothing comes except of a horrified face, Jae smirks at the younger before he turns around and strides through the warehouse.

Thing number one ticked off. Now let’s move on to number two.

Number two involves a boy with wide cheeks and a face that reminds him sometimes of Brian and sometimes of a squirrel. Jae isn’t sure about Jisung’s role in Brian’s plan, something that he needs to change yesterday. Let’s say that Jae is about ninety percent sure that Jisung is somehow involved in everything. That boy was placed here by none other than Brian himself, remember?

Squirrel boy is openly watching number three on Jae’s list, Beomgyu, doing whatever he is on the other side of the room. His lips are set in thin lines of concentration, making him look like a chihuahua trying to bite some husky.

“Why so suspicious?”

Jisung jumps in surprise and clutches his shirt. “Jesus Christ, warn a guy!”

“How’s the shoulder?” Jae looks over to where Beomgyu shuffles further into the shadow, their eyes meeting. He motions for him to stay put before he turns back to a frowning Jisung.

“Everything’s dandy, thanks for asking.”

Jisung tries to subtly look over Jae’s shoulder but Jae is much higher than the boy and more experienced in watching people… subtly. Is subtlety something lost on the new generation?

Jae sighs deeply as he grabs Jisung’s head to make him stand still for just a second. “Listen, Jisung, I’m going to ask you some questions and you’ll be answering honestly, alright?”

That’s the moment when Jae remembers that Jisung, who is bad at spying on people, is first and foremost a hustler. His expertise lies in scamming people by cheating during card games which means Jisung owns a very non-readable poker face.

The moment that Jisung notices that Jae means business, his open expression closes off to something blank. As if you are looking at a lifeless doll.

“Who are you working for?” There is no twitch on Jisung’s face, no sign, no tell. Jae would be impressed if he wasn’t trying to determine his subordinate’s loyalty. “And by that I mean who are you really working for?”

“You want to know where my loyalty lies?” The blank poker face turns into something more serious. His face is set, the line of his lips falling down slightly.

Jae clicks his tongue. “Think about it carefully. This here is me asking nicely.”

Jisung, in turn, snorts. “No offense, but you’re not as dangerous as you make yourself seem.”

Rude. But Jae is already on to that. He knows that people don’t think of him as a threat since he barks more than he bites. Jae is good at barking though. He makes money out of barking at people and letting Wonpil bite them.

However, the last months did a thing on him. Jae suddenly walks around with a loaded gun tucked into his pants, he killed one person and maybe, eventually, possibly another out of self-defense, and is now planning on taking down the biggest kingpin in Seoul while a lot of people are trying to kill him.

That side of Jae, the one that is not drowning in darkness, gains power by embracing it. It’s time to turn things up a notch and show the world what he is capable of.

Jae grabs Jisung’s cheeks and whips his face violently towards Chan, who watches them with tight lips from afar. He doesn’t move a muscle and sweat runs down along his face. Jisung’s eyebrows furrow before they rise instantly in realization.

“No one here is going to help your little ass just because you think you can get cheeky with your _boss_ ,” Jae spits at him. “I’m the one in control here. I’ve already told Chan but here it is for you again: if you even think about working against me in one way or another, then you’ll wish that I’m less dangerous than I make myself seem.” He lets go of Jisung’s face and pushes him back lightly. “I know that Brian had sent you here to keep an eye on me. Now decide, either you stay here and work with Chan or you go back to the casino and stay as far away from me and my guys as you can, alright?”

Jisung, his eyes as wide as that of a fish, only nods dumbfounded and flinches back as soon as Jae only moves a muscle.

Better so.

Where Jae’s earlier methods of having his bunch in control included him being nice but severe, fear is a much better mean to bent them to his will. Jae learnt the hard way what fear makes people do; now it’s time to apply it in his reality.

On his way out he points towards Beomgyu and motions for him to follow. Jae arrives at his car within seconds, Beomgyu nearly runs into him.

“Do me a favor and bring this to the owner of the Army.”

Beomgyu’s head whips from the paper in Jae’s hand up to his face flustered. “You want me to do what?”

“Bring this to Kim Taehyung,” Jae waves with the paper in his hands. “He’ll know what I want.” He drops the paper into Beomgyu’s hands and opens the car door behind him. He has nearly closed it when the younger suddenly furrows his eyebrows.

“But Taehyungie-hyung is usually busy with—”

“His busy life, I know. Doesn’t mean you can’t bring him this.”

Beomgyu looks like he wants to raise another complaint, so Jae shuts the door in his face and drives off to his next destination.

~~~

The streets are nearly empty in the middle of the day. People don’t come near the club when the sun is still high on the sky, exposing the deepest desires and sins of murky figures seeking pleasure. The club isn’t open during such time as well, yet music reaches Jae’s ears as soon as he leaves his car.

The dancers rehearse their choreography each day to train their lanky bodies for their disgusting customers. Dancer is only a nice expression for whores. Jae never dwells long on the concept of their human trafficking as it is rather simple. Dowoon regularly pays an uncanny man to show him his best examples and then gives him more money to take those examples home. Easy, right?

Those human examples mostly come from the slums in neighboring countries, the majority of them being Thais. Dowoon then teaches them Korean, makes them pretty and ingrains the punishment of being bad into their minds which in other words means ‘ _Do your job or you’ll die’_. Ultimately, Dowoon rules them all by fear.

Except for one boy.

Jae watches the young dancer move around elegantly, each step serving a well thought out purpose. His strong thighs wind around the pole, his head is thrown into his neck, his hair flows with the movement. He blinks with his eyes at Jae and suddenly, a concentrated frown turns into a seductive smirk. The dancer rakes around the stage, showing off the nice curves of his body and Jae—

Well, he has left attraction for any other man back in Ilsan.

The dancer’s face hardens when his sultry dance doesn’t show the desired effect. Instead he stalks forward to push a finger between the deep furrow of Jae’s eyes.

“What’s with the ugly face?” he slurs as if he has drunk a bit too much.

Jae slaps the finger away from his face and pushes the smaller out of his personal space. “I saw you and then remembered how much I don’t want to do this.”

“Do what?”

The dancer only purses his lips when Jae motions for him to sit down in the chair opposite of his.

The club is empty with no customers in and the other whores taking a small break during their rehearsal. Jae hears chatter from somewhere deep in the building, and the rest of the whores leave hurriedly the room when Jae throws them some nasty glances.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“You tell me that, Ten.”

Jae challenges Ten with his head held high. The younger stares blankly at him, obviously calculating. They both know what Jae is talking about.

See, the thing with Ten is that Jae likes him. He is obnoxious, he is loud, he is sassy, but he does his work without a complain and even excels it. He works hard, does the best out of his shitty life and looks like he is at least a bit happy. Hell, he even is some secret agent of some sort. Jae has to give him some sort of credit for that.

“Maybe it’s time we talk, huh?” Ten asks wistfully. He leans his head into his hand, a small smile playing around his lips. “Even though this is something you should talk about with Johnny.”

Jae snorts. “Johnny can suck my dick, for all I care.”

“Ask me for permission first.”

“Ew, no.” Jae rumples his nose at Ten’s delightful laughter. “I’ve got enough dick as it is for now.”

Really, Jae had a lot of dick the last few weeks and after what happened to his last lay—well, Jae isn’t too keen on testing the waters. There is no time and no desire, and Jae certainly has the self-control to survive the last few days without some action.

But back to the action at hand.

“It isn’t really hard to read you, Jae,” Ten suddenly says and—

Jae feels a bit offended. He proudly calls himself the connoisseur of people, reading them as if they are open books. This, in turn, should mean that he himself can encrypt his own emotions and tells and maybe even chuck his book down into a deep sea for no one to ever find it.

Sadly, he got proven otherwise too often during the last weeks.

(And that Ten says it out loud like that— Jae’s confidence wavers at the hard blow.)

Ten shakes his head. “You would make such a good mobster if it weren't for Kang Younghyun.” Jae laughs humorless when the dancer sighs deeply.

“I wouldn’t be one without Brian in the first place.” He retorts soberly, his lips set into a tight line. “I’m finally done with him, though.”

“Are you?” Jae hums in confusion. “I mean, how often have you already been done with Younghyun-ssi? Once, twice, thrice? What makes you think you won’t run back to him again?”

What makes him think that he won’t run back to Brian again?

Easy. Really. Jae only has to think about the dead bodies on a pile behind him and knows instantly that he won’t ever run back to Brian. There are so many faces of people that he knows, that he has seen, who have died at the hands of Brian Kang.

“He’s a killer,” Jae mumbles under his breath. Ten raises his eyebrow.

“Isn’t it a bit hypocrite of you to say that? Last time I checked you killed two people as well.”

Jae swallows hard with Ten stating the harsh facts (again, because that’s what Ten obviously does) because in the end, it doesn’t matter what Jae thinks his morals are. It’s what he does that shows his true colors.

“Touché,” he deflects half-heartedly. “Things are different now and I made up my mind.”

“We’ll see.”

Yes, they’ll see when Jae finally gets out of this hellhole. Brian can watch his ass leaving that place with a smile brighter than he has ever seen on him. Jae will triumph over him and show him that he can do the impossible.

But first—

“You guys probably think you’re much smarter than I, don’t you?” Ten’s lips tilt upwards in a smug smile. Jae bets it won’t stay like that for any longer. “Took me long enough to see through your game.”

Ten hums in comprehension. That smug smile turns into something much more amused. His eyes are gleaming in mirth. The red light of the room tints the dark brown of his iris into something dangerous.

“Isn’t it you who thinks nothing of loyalty?”

“Stop asking questions whose answers you already know.”

Playing with Ten is like playing with fire. In every case you get burnt because Ten is just like that. Talking as if it’s nothing, asking questions that don’t need an answer. You have to be careful around someone like Ten who bends people to his will. Ten is a master in this field, Jae knows. He only realized it too late that Ten is bending him too.

Jae is on a mission today. He needs to eliminate all threats to his plan. Get rid of all the trouble that may happen in the future. Ten is a rose whose thorns have already left scars on Jae’s skin.

“Someone just made us a better offer than you. It’s nothing against you, hyung.” Ten chuckles behind his hand.

People who are high up on their horse tend to be blind for those on the ground. They become smug, believe that nothing can ever shake their grounds. But see, Jae has learnt from experience. There is no thing such as being invulnerable. Every man has his weakness.

And most times it’s the underdog who will turn everything upside down. Small people who are seen as pawns suddenly turn into the queens beheading the king.

“Then I want to tell you the same.” Jae leans forward in his seat, all fun and play vanished from his face. All that is left is the deep black of his eyes without stars that are long lost. Ten’s smile finally falls off his face. “It’s nothing against you, Chittaphon, but I have to make someone a better offer.”

Playing with Jae is so much more than playing with fire. With fire you can feel the heat and enjoy the warmth it gives. Jae, however, is the ocean, drowning people in the darkness he brings with him. Once in there, there is no escape. The ocean is calm but if something stirs it, the waves will cling to you with its wide arms and take you deep down into a bottomless pit, drowning you within its darkness.

Ten’s head whips up when someone else enters the room. Jae nods his head towards the whore and gives a small hand sign to take him away.

“Wait—hyung.” Ten suddenly jumps out of his chair and grabs for Jae’s arm. “We don’t have to do it like that.” His eyes look at him pleadingly and Jae knows this look, has seen it often enough in the faces of his victims. Ten is no different from them all, Ten is no different from him. All bite and no bark, and all he wants to do is to survive, instead he finds himself as a prisoner of his own emotions. “Let’s talk about it, okay? I can talk to Johnny—”

“That’s your flaw.” Ten stills immediately when Jae’s words reach him. “Johnny. Or better, you are Johnny’s weakness. It’s the same with me and Brian, only that I got rid of it.”

Again, Ten grabs for Jae’s arm, pulling at it when the third person reaches for him.

“I know you, hyung,” Ten pleads. “You are no killer.”

Jae regards him with a blank face. Their conversation turns in circles, always coming back to the things they already talked about.

Time to close the circle for it shall never start again.

“Last time I checked, I killed two people.”

He sees Ten’s face contorts with horror when he gets grabbed from behind. The dancer starts to trash around until a needle is rammed into his neck and its contents enter his veins. His limbs calm down within seconds. His head lulls forward, then he falls into the person’s arms, completely still.

Jae whistles impressed by the show. “Where’d you get the sedatives from?” He looks up to the third person, a tight smile forming on Wonpil’s lips. His gloved hands reach for Ten’s still body to heave him over his shoulder.

“It’s from your stash,” Wonpil mutters into the body before he turns towards Jae. “What should I do with him?”

“Not much.” Wonpil raises his eyebrow. “Just some wounds on the surface so it looks worse than it is.”

Wonpil snorts at that, his tight lips loosening into something much warmer and brighter. “He was right, you know?” he says when he is on his way out. Jae, a few steps behind, cocks his head in confusion. “You aren’t a killer. You’re too kind-hearted for that.”

And maybe if Wonpil says that it has a chance of being the truth.

Just— Wonpil hasn’t seen the sea that has Jae trapped within its confines, dark and brooding. And Jae really wants to leave it like that.

~~~

Coming here equalizes suicide. Every sane person would stay as far away from here as possible, especially if this person is Jae, the person who is responsible for the death of the building’s owner’s younger brother. Sort of brother. Good friend. Somewhat brother.

All technicalities.

The walls are _still_ shining and his reflection is _still_ mirrored in each pillar. People are _still_ watching him with tense faces. Their mouths are set intro straight lines and no pair of eye misses him striding towards the elevator. Even the camera in the corner of the room.

Jae enters the elevator and looks the camera dead into its eye.

Last time he has been here, Jae was some random person who came with a good offer. Now, though, he feels like walking through a mine field. Each step could be the last one he takes.

If you ask him now, Jae will say he has planned it all down to t. Enter. Talk. Leave. If you ask him once the elevator pings at the arrival on the highest floor, Jae will panic hard because he has forgotten every word he wanted to say.

Four men in black await him at the door, one looking the same as the next. All good trained bodyguards, highly suited for being in the secret service. Only that the person they are protecting is a former drug lord.

Nonetheless, the doors open for Jae and Choi Seunghyun proudly stands behind his table, a whole city laid out behind him.

“Bold of you to come here again,” Seunghyun cocks his head to the side when Jae stops in the middle of the room.

The four heavily armed bodyguards are standing directly behind Jae. He doesn’t dare to come any nearer to Seunghyun than he is right now, situated in the middle of the room where everyone can see him.

“I thought,” Seunghyun continues when Jae is still busy with observing the room, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt the first time I saw you. You promised me good drugs and I was curious. But even until now—” Seunghyun nears Jae with a light scowl on his face. “—you haven’t delivered anything.”

Jae lifts up his chin, his hands balling into fists. “That’s why I’m here—”

“Don’t even think about selling me back the club that was mine to begin with.” Seunghyun hits the desk hard. He straightens back up, smoothing out the shirt he is wearing.

“That wasn’t my intention.” Seunghyun raises his eyebrow at Jae’s thankfully still calm voice. “I have something much better.”

Seunghyun snorts. “What? Selling yourself to us?”

Jae licks his lips, his eyes blinking. He thought it through months ago. Laid it all out on a wall in a musty room. His grand plan. The golden ticket for his way out of this hell hole.

“No,” Jae starts slowly, grabbing the attention of the room. Everyone holds their breath (no, it’s only Jae who does that for a dramatic purpose). “I can give you something so much better.”

“What is this something?” Seunghyun’s hand moves to grab something out of his drawer, which is—of course, how else could it be—a fucking gun. “Why shouldn’t I just shoot you here right now, huh?” The gun cocks between his fingers, clearly loaded.

It’s instinctual to raise his hands and make himself smaller. His lifted chin is suddenly glued to his chest to play it safe.

Jae licks over his lips, swallows, and then—

“The Army. I can get the Army for you.”

Seunghyun’s gaze is drilling into his head. The straight line of his lips doesn’t move an inch, his face doesn’t twitch at all. It doesn’t matter what he tries to find in Jae’s face as long as he can see what he wants to see. Jae makes sure to look compliant for the other. His hands tremble for show (and a bit because Jae’s scared as hell), still raised up.

It’s only when Seunghyun lowers his gun that the breath he has held in suddenly comes out in a rush. All guns in the room are lowered and Jae can breathe again.

“How?” Seunghyun asks shortly with no room for anything besides business.

“September seventh at the YoungK. There will be a small game with the owner of the Army, you and me. I will raise the stakes high enough for Taehyung to bet the Army, only for you to win in the end.”

“How in the world will you accomplish that?” Seunghyun sniffs.

Jae only shrugs his shoulders, allowing himself a light smirk to appear confident. “Easy. We all will bet something significant. I heard that Namjoon is highly interested in your label, so that will be your bet. I will bring in something too: the Sun. The game will be rigged right from the beginning. Our best hustler will be there on that day and he will make sure that _you_ will be winning this exact round.”

“And why, pray tell, should I trust you?”

“Kill me if you don’t.”

Seunghyun looks lightly taken aback before he barks a laughter. When Jae’s face doesn’t change at all because Jae’s serious like that, Seunghyun calms down and smirks.

“You really sell your life like that?”

Jae shrugs. “I’m dead either way if I don’t pull this through. I can’t remedy the loss of your brother, but I can make my amends by offering you more power. Imagine the numbers you’ll make with the Sun and the Army under your fingers.”

A small smile makes its way onto Jae’s face when he sees Seunghyun considering his offer. This goes so much better than he anticipated it. Jae thought he will go out with one finger less on his hand or an inconvenient bullet wound.

Give people money and put your life into their hands, then they are melting – in your own hands.

He is sure to celebrate victory in his head when suddenly Seunghyun’s gun is raised to his head. Jae is looking directly into the barrel, his heart stopping.

“What makes you think that I will agree to it?”

Jae’s hands shoot up immediately again as his face falls. His heart hammers against his chest, pumping blood through his ears.

“You don’t?” he jokes lightly, his grimace of a grin vanishing immediately when he sees Seunghyun’s unimpressed face.

“Let me make one thing clear, Park Jaehyung.” Seunghyun clenches his teeth. His eyes light up in darkness. In color, they would be a fiery red like blood dripping from a cold hand.

“For me, your life isn’t worth anything.”

The finger on Seunghyun’s gun tenses, putting pressure on the trigger, Jae closes his eyes tightly and—

~~~

A high sound dances through the high arches of the room. It reaches every nook and cranny, filling empty and dark corners with a simple melody. A tune played in d minor, echoing off the colored windows. Fallen soldiers lying on the ground in fading grays, their opponents staring up in vivid blues and reds. The chosen one floats in the sky, a deep yellow halo surrounding his head.

The colors dance along the melody. They paint the arches in every color imaginable, making a scene dipped in blood. The altar emerges from the darkness with bright light behind. There is no trace of a once committed sin to be found, as if nothing has ever happened on such holy ground. No windows are shattered, no cross stretched across the elevation, no corpse dripping deep red blood onto the gray ground.

A simple figure is hunched over the organ. Fingers deftly swipe over the keys on two stores, pressing humbly to produce a melody deeply engraved in the stones of the small church. Their face appears serene in concentration with their eyes closed, the mouth set in a small pout. The colors of the windows tint their porcelain skin in vivid hues, making them look like a figure out of a dream.

They don’t stop playing, not when doors fall closed loudly, not when steps disrupt the enchantment of the song.

The only thing that stops is the whisper that has danced along to the melancholic melody. Reverent words spoken in a hushed voice to be only heard by the person who speaks them. Their whisper stops once again when another person settles in next to them, their eyes following the movements with a small smile turning the corners of their lips up and deepening their cheeks with two endearing dimples.

Nothing happens for a while. No figure speaks a word as they only listen contently to the small concert played for only them to hear.

There is this pressuring urge building up in him. His fingers start to twitch to reach for a book, to find the lyrics to this piece when his mind can’t find them in his head. Such mannerism that was ingrained into him a long time ago calls out to be finally heard again and to eventually break free.

“This is _Passacaglia in d minor by Buxtehude_ ,” the man kindly informs him with that charming smile on his lips. His voice doesn’t raise much, only a whisper as not to disturb the wonderful playing.

Jae suppresses the urge to clear his throat and pays attention to the organ player instead. His hair is a deep black as are the clothes on his back. The black lets him nearly disappear in the shadow; his white skin stands out much more. The only oddity that Jae can find are the simple slippers on his feet.

“I found this piece once in a novel that I read long ago,” the man whispers to Jae again. Although now his eyes are set on the organ instead. “It’s a story about a boy who lived his life in sin and vain, searching for its meaning and finding his own morality and philosophy. This book deeply moved me and made me rethink about myself a lot.”

Jae only hums in response, not really knowing what he should answer. The man doesn’t seem to be bothered by that as his dimples only deepen in amusement.

The music eventually stops when the piece is finished, and the last tune fades out slowly. The deafening silence feels heavy in his mind as his ears are filled with the grating sound of white noise. The figure doesn’t move an inch from their place.

“I’m glad that you’re here in one piece, Jae-hyung. Does it mean everything is set and ready?”

Jae, for the first time, turns his head to the man and gives him a confident smile. “Hook, line and sinker. He’s in and every party is set on that day. All things are going according to plan.”

The man shakes his head in amusement. “I didn’t expect anything else from you. You keep surprising me ever since you agreed to kill one of G-Dragon’s favorite men.”

Not even Kim Namjoon is spared by the colors’ dance. The gray of his hair isn’t gray anymore at all; reds and blues and greens paint rainbows on such muted ground. Even the tanned skin of his face is playfully lighted by the many colors.

“I have a strong drive,” Jae eventually offers along with his shoulder shrug.

Both of them turn their heads back to the front. Jae doesn’t try to flinch at the surfacing memories of a bleeding corpse stuck on a cross.

“Let’s go through the plan once again, alright?” Namjoon requests with a kind voice.

Jae takes a deep breath, eyeing the figure at the organ.

“It’s simple. The YoungK will have a special event at the seventh of September. I already told Sungjin about the benefits of throwing a grand re-opening party for the casino, even though it already opened weeks ago, just to get good press for our sparkling looks. A few VIP-guests will come.”

“I guess that Taehyung and Seunghyun are on that list?”

Jae nods. “Sungjin is talking Jaebeom into coming too, just to be save.”

“How did you talk Sungjin into inviting Taehyung and Seunghyun?”

“Money. Sungjin knows that we are the best hustlers out there. He wants to make Seunghyun a peace offer, so that G-Dragon won’t try to kill Younghyun and me anymore. And he wants to achieve that by—”

“Selling out Taehyung, right?”

“Right.” Jae crosses his arms. “All of this is going to happen at the table. A simple play of blackjack between Taehyung, me and Seunghyun.”

Namjoon cuts in again. “Taehyung will most likely bring Jeongguk with him. And Seunghyun probably Daesung. It would be wise to take your own hitman with you.”

“I’m not going to be alone.” Jae swallows. He shouldn’t think about it any further, it’s the only possibility of how this is going to work out. “I’m taking Younghyun in with me.”

“Kang Younghyun? Why?” Namjoon wonders.

“Younghyun is a professional hitman after all. Plus, he’s one of the best hustlers we have.

“It will be a game between us six. We’ll make it look like a balanced game with wins for every team according to their skills at the game. I will raise the stakes with each round until the last—where we set everything. Taehyung the Army, Seunghyun his label and we the Sun.”

“But you don’t have the Sun anymore. Wouldn’t it be wiser to bet the YoungK?”

Jae shakes his head. “Gimme a day or two and I’ll have it back again.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? We’re talking about EXO here.”

“I know, but it’s already taken care of. Promise.”

“Color me surprised—again. “

They both share a smile. It’s comfortable like that. Kim Namjoon is easy to talk to. If Jae had known him earlier, he might have had some fun in this life. Maybe.

“Then,” Jae continues after he cleared his throat, “Taehyung is going to win everything, the label and the club.”

“At this point, Daesung will already have put a bullet through your head,” Namjoon kindly points out.

“He won’t.” When Namjoon looks skeptically at him, Jae elaborates. “Because we have more men. As you said, Taehyung brings Jeongguk and I have Younghyun. Plus, with Jaebeom’s reinforcement it won’t be possible for Seunghyun’s man to make a move.”

“But won’t Sungjin become suspicious if you come out of this room having lost the club?”

“Not when we tell him something else.”

Namjoon purses his lips. “Can we trust Younghyun? Last I heard he tried to kill you.”

“I’ll talk to him and make sure he won’t talk at all.” Namjoon nods, content for now.

The kingpin clasps his hand together, the bang echoing off the walls like a final word that prompts things to finally end.

Namjoon ascends from his place, his head held high on his shoulders. The different colors shift against his skin and hair, a play of simple things. His whole being throws a wide shadow behind him where no color reaches at all. The man only nods once towards the figure hanging from the ceiling before he turns back to Jae.

“I see you are all set for the final day, hyung.” There are those dangerous dimples again, endearing in such a perilous way. “I will cross my fingers for you, that everything happens as you wish for it to happen.”

For someone as powerful as Namjoon is, he makes himself seem so humble. Jae sees the money in the clothes he wears, the fine strands of his silver hair, the marvelous silky skin. His mannerism, his way of talking, some may perceive him as arrogant, noble. Jae knows better. He sees the way Namjoon gives himself to something much greater than him. A person who knows enough to know that he hasn’t figured out life at all and is contended with the things he has and will be achieving.

Someone who is at peace with the human being he is at the moment and he ought to be.

“Maybe I will read this book one day,” Jae suddenly muses aloud when Namjoon walks past him. This earns him something more than a smile. It gives him a bright beam of someone who finds pleasure in helping others. Namjoon strides further away and Jae looks up to the cross like Namjoon did before, folding his hands into each other. “Pray for me,” he hastily adds before Namjoon leaves the church.

Just then, Namjoon throws him a last glance, then the doors open and then fall close behind him, his last words slowly fading into the chords of a new organ piece. Slender finger once again dance over keys, performing the same piece of music again.

“I don’t believe in god,” Namjoon says as his farewell within those holy walls, and Jae can’t even bring himself to be scandalized by this blasphemy. No, not with how his attention is solely fixed at the lone figure sitting at the organ, long silver pipes gliding along the high arches of the church, colored in all lights of the windows.

Jae slowly stands from his seat and walks towards the instrument, careful to not make a sound and disrupt the serene melody. Each step brings him further towards the other person with deep red lips pursed in concentration.

The playing abruptly stops as soon as Jae reaches out his hand to touch the small box that is half concealed by shadows. Everything just halts in that moment. Fingers hover in the air, music fizzling into silence, a coldness creeping up along Jae’s spine.

The person in front of him cocks their head towards the box. Their long fingers reach out to it, slowly gliding along the seams of a red tie. Their eyes hidden by their deep black hair; Jae fails to read their face.

“Namjoonie’s right,” the person, unbothered by Namjoon’s high status, suddenly talks. “You are bold. Bold enough to ask for something in a letter that some random guy delivers me.”

“And yet, you are here.”

Height doesn’t matter much if your opposite has such an aura surrounding them that makes them taller than any person could ever be. Jae feels exactly that when the person stands in front of him, his head barely reaching Jae’s eyes. Their gaze pierce directly through Jae, eyes that look sleepy but aren’t such at all. Just eyes who have seen all the bad in the world, tired to its darkness and blind to its light. This is the gaze of someone who has seen the traces of their shadow and accepted it wholly with its every flaw and fault.

However, Jae’s own determination doesn’t waver. He had written a letter, long before he knew what was to happen, and this here is dealing with the consequences.

One doesn’t take back their deals when talking to drug icon Min Yoongi.

Yoongi raises his chin higher. He pushes the box into Jae’s chest softly. “You owe me, Park Jaehyung.” Yoongi slurs while talking, an endearing trait to his otherwise intimidating appearance.

The box stumbles down along Jae’s chest directly into his open hands. Its content rattles along the way down loudly. Jae nods his head in thanks and holds the box tightly, very aware of its inside.

“We’re even.” Yoongi looks up, confused, cocking his eyebrow in a question. Jae only shakes his head and pockets the box, patting against it. “You’ll see.”

In his head the sounds of the organs echo through the halls again while he makes his way down the aisle. His departure should be as epic and dramatic as Namjoon’s, a few simple strides until he leaves, Min Yoongi’s eyes following him in awe.

In reality there is no music played and Min Yoongi doesn’t watch him at all. Jae only strides down the aisle with a heavy heart and an even heavier pocket while Yoongi has turned towards the altar for a quiet prayer.

“Be careful,” Yoongi suddenly speaks lazily. His voice reverberates through the room, shaking Jae deep to his bones. “I’ve seen people like you.” Jae halts in his position right in front of the door where the colors don’t reach anymore and only shadows can dance around his frame. Yoongi looks up to the ikon, touches his forehead, his chest and shoulders in a cross, mumbling the prayer. “Blind to a world that they think to be lost in.

“However, if you follow the light, will there be no shadow anymore?”

~~~

The bitter-sweet taste of lemons hit his tongue, the sharp traces of alcohol burning on its way down, down, down. A single sip from the cold crystalline glass, the liquid touches the tip of the tongue before it fills his whole mouth, stays there for a short time to indulge in the simple taste of bitter lemons, sweet oranges and burning alcohol, then getting washed down the throat with a loud gulp.

Jae sloshes the martini between his fingers and watches it with half-lidded eyes. Music drones in his ears, at this point reduced to some white noise that is getting lost in the background of his mind. The atmosphere is loose, casual, even nearly euphoric around Jae while he himself feels less—content. His thoughts are a mess in his brain, yet there isn’t much he wants to think about now.

The bar around him is empty with all the people busy decrepitating their money in more meaningless ways. No stool is being occupied except for his own at the corner, hidden from many prying eyes of the gracious house. The barkeeper brings him another cocktail once his is finished, this time a tint of deep red instead of milky white.

“Every time I find you here, you drink something else.”

Jae whips his head up to the third stool next to him and—he turns around again to make sure that _he_ isn’t there. That his voice is only a figment of his imagination.

The sentences lodges something heavy in his throat and Jae washes it away with a long sip of his new cocktail. The sweet taste of cranberries hit his tongue, something entirely else instead of bitter lemon.

“Is everything alright?”

He can see it right behind his eyes. When he closes them, the darkness swallows him up and dips of colors swim into a well-known picture. Intense fox-shaped eyes look at him, an unsure smile playing around lips that twitch in an urge to dip down into a frown. He sees himself sitting there at the bar, a less gracious and more run-down one, the glass half empty.

“Just thinking, I guess,” Jae hears himself answering the question, not once looking up from his cocktail to the person next to him.

Fingers reach around the glass and take it carefully from his own and Jae—his younger self, the glasses wearing nerd who was dumb enough to fall in love with a guitar playing economics student who turned out to be a drug dealer slash hitman slash mobster.

Only that said mobster takes a sip from his own glass with blond hair falling into his eyes and Jae, then and now, suppresses the urge to reach up and push the strands away. Brian’s eyes deserve to be seen, no matter what, especially as they never fail to steal Jae’s breath.

“About the offer?” Brian asks quietly, his eyes downcast. Young Jae searches his gaze, finally pushing the strands out of Brian’s face. “You know that…” Brian starts and stops again. “You don’t have to? Maybe that it’s even better if you don’t?”

Their fingers find each other and intertwine, a thumb brushing over the hand as does the other.

“I know,” young Jae mumbles eventually. He leans his head down to meet Brian’s, their foreheads touching in a soft gesture. “But maybe there isn’t any other way.”

Hands find young Jae’s face, holding him hard and yet so careful, with Brian’s eyes so piercing and swimming with unshed tears.

“I won’t let them hurt you, Jae. No matter how you’ll decide, I’ll take care of them. But please, don’t come with me. This—you can’t— You’re too good for that. You’re—”

His lips tingle with the memory of their kiss. A light pressure, a soft moving, just a small peck to reassure that young Jae won’t do something rash and without consideration. His fingers remember the touch of Brian’s hair between them, lightly tugging at the strands in comfort, soaking in the warmth of the other.

Brian is warm.

Always.

“Every time I find you here, you drink something else.”

“Jesus Christ—” Jae jumps in surprise when Brian, real life and nearly thirty-years-old Brian, suddenly stands next to him with his immaculate suit and deep-red styled hair.

Brian looks fine. He looks more than fine. Brian looks like every men and women’s wet dream in his fine dark blue suit, black shirt and red hair styled out of his face. He even donned on some make-up to emphasize the best part of his face which is like—everything.

This makes it so hard to remember that Jae is done with this man. Brian is a traitor who tried to get him killed and Jae is kind of mad at him. Not only kind of—Jae is mad. His madness just reached the point where he is done with Brian. He doesn’t want to think about him, doesn’t want to talk to him, doesn’t want to breathe the same air as him.

Alas—Jae obviously has some mental problems that he is sitting in the YoungK, Brian’s casino, the casino Brian owns, and in case you didn’t know, whose owner is Brian Kang.

The box in his pocket suddenly weighs much more than before.

Jae isn’t here to drink. Or to talk. Or to—who is he even kidding.

Jae is fully aware of the consequences of seeing Brian. He knows that his heart will always make somersaults the moment Brian only so much as looks at him. Don’t let him start on the sudden lack of his lung’s capacity when Brian drinks the shot the bartender gives him. That adam’s apple, how it bobbles, it takes Jae 0.01 seconds to remember all the different ways he had licked at it.

Now he’s hot and bothered thanks to a man that he should be ignoring.

“I’m surprised to find you here, though.”

Brian talks like he has found a shy deer in a forest. Or as if Jae is a ticking time bomb that contains so much anger that he will kill everyone—woah, where did that comparison come from? Maybe Jae should catch up on sleep, huh?

“We need to talk.”

Brian, who was about to drink from the fresh cocktail the barkeeper has given him before, stops just when the glass touches his lip and turns his head slightly towards Jae.

Something is off about him.

Jae can’t put his finger on what, but something is really odd about him.

“I’m thinking, I guess,” Jae eventually answers when Brian only continues to look confused – and suddenly he feels like young Jae again.

The world narrows down to just both of them, music and chatter melting into white noise, the mere presence of other people non-existing.

Brian’s eyes meet his own. It is less intense, less electrifying than he remembers it. There isn’t that madness he’d had when he shot the man in front of Jae, there isn’t that sheer fondness like back then in the bar, there aren’t those blank emotions Brian shows when he deflects everything. There is something much deeper that Jae is afraid of touching and diving into.

It feels much like the darkness around him. Crushing. Hurting.

“About what?” Brian breaks the eye contact and takes a small sip of his drink. What is so odd about him today?

He feels it thrumming in his fingers. A nervous energy that fills his veins and colors the atmosphere. It is tense and thick, something that makes him swallow again and again. His fingers tap absent mindedly against the wooden surface, thinking.

“Us.”

The tension thickens. Jae needs to take a deep breath before he continues, just to calm down the nervous pounding of his heart. His eyes find a single drop running down along his glass, slowly.

“Just say it.” Jae’s head whip up at the defeated sigh of Brian, at the slam of glass against wood, at the sudden slump of the other’s shoulders. His eyes gleam in the light glassy, something vulnerable displayed in them.

When Jae only continues to stare at him, Brian sighs again and tips his head back. His bangs fall into his eyes, taking away their beautiful sight from Jae.

“We’re done, aren’t we? That’s why you’re here, right? To seek closure?”

Oh.

That explains the heavy mood. The vulnerable and defeated sight of Brian. It hits Jae like bricks because Brian is, in fact, right. Jae has come here, even though unplanned, because he has this feeling deep inside him. Because he has that small box in his pocket that he wants to give Brian.

Closure sounds like… almost like salvation. As if closure is the answer he needs so much.

In a few days, Jae will be out of this business. He will hopefully be far away from everything and finally be enjoying life as he should have been doing before. He hasn’t exactly planned on what he will do once he gains freedom, but Jae only wants one thing and that is to return home.

He’s thought that he doesn’t have anything that he leaves behind. Maybe he was wrong because here he is, visiting Brian, and somehow Brian offers him closure. To be finally done with them.

Maybe Jae can then finally let go.

Jae licks over his lips and catches his fingers before they do something dumb like reaching for Brian’s.

“We aren’t working,” Jae confesses what they both know deep in their hearts, even though this feels somehow, well, wrong. “This—us—this is killing us. Killing me. From the beginning on. And to be honest—” Jae exhales a shaky breath which he doesn’t know where it comes from and balls his hands into fists. His eyes are fixed on his glass again because seeing Brian, Younghyun, this beautiful man in front of him— “I’m tired of dying over and over again. I’m so tired of it.”

“I’m sorry.” The way Brian’s—Younghyun’s voice breaks, it tears something apart in Jae. He feels his heart ripping into two and suddenly, he wants to take it back. Nearly. It feels freeing to say this, to confess that Jae has reached his limit. “I’m so sorry for everything,” says Brian again, and Jae wants to stop him from saying that.

Not because Jae doesn’t deserve this. No, Jae deserves every sorry from Brian for obvious reasons, but the way he says it, the full devotion to those words in his voice, that small hitch and break, the vulnerability, Jae doesn’t want that.

“Stop saying that.” Jae sounds angry. Why is he suddenly angry? Why is he such a mess? “It’s my fault, too.”

It was his decision. He fell in love with Brian. He ran after him to Korea. He made his way up in this mob. It was all Jae. Brian… Brian only opened a door. He hadn’t pushed him into it, hadn’t whispered sweet words to allure him in, nothing. Brian told him from the beginning… he warned him. Jae was the one who was blind to every word.

“I was the one who fell in love with you,” Jae adds in a whisper.

A long, wet trail along the glass, the drop finally reaches the ground. The ball flattens against the surface, a dark spot soaking into the wood. Jae’s finger hover over the spot and he begins to rub on it. The wetness clings to his fingertip barely. A welcomed distraction from the storm raging inside him. His thoughts are a mess, his feelings more so.

Brian’s glass hits the bar loudly, empty where it has been nearly full just seconds before, and Brian gulps loud enough for Jae to hear. Jae sees the other’s fingers tapping against the glass. A rhythm that Jae knows by heart.

“I wish I would have stopped you. The thought to have you with me, possibly forever… I was so happy. But then I remembered the world I lived in and—and I regret it so much. You deserve better. So much better.” Brian shakes his head, red strands flying around his face, obscuring the view of sorrowful eyes.

Jae thinks about reaching out. About fingers that stop the self-pitying shake of the head, that push hair out of eyes he wants to see so much, that tilt his head up to be on the same eyelevel.

Before he knows it—Brian’s face is so warm in his hands. He feels the hitch in the other’s breath beneath his palm, the heating of cheeks and widening of eyes. It’s beautiful, still so beautiful. Bright like the sun shining down on bright waters, white gleams reflecting on the calm surface. Yet, something is amiss in such beauty. The shine is dimmed as if night has arrived and only the moon brightens the storming ocean. Light only shimmers at the edges of waves, but what is hidden inside stays unseen.

“I can’t forgive you.” Jae slowly takes his hand back. His fingertips grace on soft skin, on closed eyes and half-opened lips as if savoring that touch for a last time. “I can’t forgive you for something that isn’t your fault.” He reaches into his pocket. The edges dig sharply into his palm. “But I also can’t forgive you for the things that you did do.”

For all the time ever since Jae has been here, Brian has told him many regrets and sorrys for bringing him here, but not once has he listened to Jae. Jae had blindly followed him like a loyal and lovesick puppy, ready to die for his best friend. His fault, the things he should be sorry for, is for abandoning Jae in times he needed him the most.

Lying in the rain, bleeding on the cold ground, Jae sees the world towering over him, the sky mocking him for his blind reach for love. The ultimate truth, Jae loves Younghyun, always comes back to spit him in the face.

It’s tiring. An endless circle of Jae loving Younghyun, being on cloud nine, and then falling into an endless pit of darkness. Jae is tired of talking underwater with his muted voice and words being unheard. Jae wants to rest. Forever.

The box slides over to Brian in one swift movement. Quiet, easy. A simple black box with a red ribbon, neatly packed with much care. Brian’s eyes search for his in surprise and confusion. Jae licks over his lips, pushing his hands deep into his pockets to withstand the temptation of touching.

“From now on, we’re done.” He nods towards the box with his chin, swallowing. “This is my farewell present.”

It’s a common theme for today. Jae stands up from the stool and makes his way to the doors, leaving behind a person that is no longer his friend nor companion. How fitting this music would be, the organ filling cheerful chatter with stifling chords and a serious atmosphere. Jae wants an epic departure that steals people’s breaths. Something dramatic.

Is Brian looking at him? Following his walk out with his eyes?

Jae wants to turn back to him and see. He shouldn’t. He knows that when he sees the eyes, intense and full of mirth, paired with those sinful lips, curling upwards in a—

Oh.

That is what was missing all along.

Jae sits in his car, his hands perched against the wheel, when the thought hits him fully. The absence of that smile that is so much Brian as it is Younghyun leaves behind the feeling of something lacking in Brian’s beauty. That smile is such a significant part of Brian, though Jae hasn’t noticed it before. How Brian hasn’t smiled once during their conversation.

Well, who would smile when someone breaks up with them for good?

His head hits the leather of the wheel when Jae doubles over with gritted teeth.

Everything feels wrong. The lack of a smile, Jae’s heartfelt good-bye, it all feels so wrong. What is wrong with Jae?

When he had walked into the casino, Jae didn’t spend any minute on thinking about why he’s there. He had the box and wanted to get rid of it.

It all started in the hospital. Jae was doing his research about Namjoon while watching Brian sleeping peacefully when he made the alterations to his plans. He was looking at Brian’s ashen face and thought—Well, he doesn’t know exactly what he’d thought.

Maybe that Younghyun and him deserve a life outside of this world where it can bloom into something as innocent and beautiful as their feelings are – because Jae loves Younghyun, an unchanging feeling that makes up his whole world and being.

That day in the hospital ended with him writing Johnny a note that contained a small request with the simple name of Min Yoongi written on the outside. A request for Min Yoongi – which is in some way suicide if Jae hadn’t been in good favor of Namjoon.

Jae had gambled with his life to get Brian this box. Or more specific, for what is in the box. And even though Brian doesn’t deserve it anymore, Jae wants him to have it.

(Because a small part of him still holds onto that feeling of a possible happy after—but don’t tell Jae that.)

When the passenger door suddenly opens and someone takes the seat next to him, Jae jumps in surprise and curses under his breath. He warily turns towards the newcomer and scowls at Brian, something that immediately vanishes once he sees the tension in his shoulders.

Brian looks aghast. Wide eyes, ashen skin, white knuckles – he must have seen the content of the box. If only Jae had drove away at this point…

“I don’t understand,” Brian eventually confesses, “You said good-bye but that box—”

“I meant it.” Jae turns his head and looks studiously ahead, not daring to maintain eye-contact. “I planned this back in the hospital, but things obviously changed.” He himself is surprised at how steady his voice sounds. No emotion, no sadness – just blank honesty.

He hears Brian’s breath hitch before he suddenly gets pulled down by the hem of his shirt. Lips are pressing against his own and start devouring him in a way – desperately and full of want. The hand on his shirt tugs him further over the middle console, the other hand finds its way to his face to cradle it into a warm palm.

Jae’s brain needs a moment to catch up on what is happening. Jae’s body, though, reacts immediately. His own hands find Brian’s face, he grabs it and—

Jae presses in further, licking deeply into the other’s mouth and exploring every inch. Their kiss is hurried, devouring, the urging of two souls feeling deeply attached to each other. It feels like feeding into an addiction. Every lick stills the hunger in Jae and yet at the same time fires up the burning sensation of his insides.

The silent air is interrupted by groans and moans and soon Jae finds himself straddling Brian in his seat with his hands still glued to the other’s face. Fingers dance across his naked skin along his back, warm and soft. The softness tickles and Jae giggles, he fucking giggles into Brian’s mouth, but he can’t bring himself to care when he feels Brian’s own lips curling up into a smile of his own.

How can it be that the atmosphere changes within seconds? One second, Jae is tensed and unhappy for being in the vicinity of Brian, then he wants to tear himself apart for feeling sad over their break-up, the followed-up desperation about their farewell, getting horny because Brian dares kissing him and then—they are smiling and leaning into each other.

How can it be easy like that?

Jae hates Brian. That's how it is. Jae loves Younghyun, but he hates Brian. In the end, he always ends up in his arms, kissing and making love to him. Brian is a flame and Jae is a moth, their souls destined to attract each other.

It doesn’t take long until Brian has his hand down in Jae’s pants, rubbing along his length with spit-wet fingers, and his thumb kneads the head in this wonderful motion that makes Jae moan out loud.

“Fuck,” Jae curses under his breath before he lunges at Brian again. He bites into his lower lip and tugs on it. His own hands meanwhile search something to do and then find the buttons of Brian’s shirt.

Where the hell does Brian find the time to work out like that? During all the time they spent together in Ilsan, he had not once left the flat to hit the gym or something like that, and yet Jae feels the muscles shift beneath his fingers and those are definitely pecs. A revelation, really, even though he had touched them just a week ago.

One moment Jae is kissing the hell out of Brian, the next he is panting into his mouth because that hand is doing a good job on him. Jae can feel his muscles tense when his orgasm comes near, and just when he is about to cum, Brian suddenly lets go of his dick and grabs Jae at his hips.

Jae immediately whines. “Why did you stop?”

A kiss against the edge of his mouth, another against the tip of his nose, a last against his jaw. Then Brian tugs his head forward to press his lips chastely against his forehead, and the air fills with something thick.

Brian’s lips graze against his cheeks up towards his ears and he whispers, “Let me fuck you.”

Jae instantly flinches back in Brian’s hug, his eyes double in size and his mouth presses into a thin line. “What the—”

“Please,” Brian adds hastily. “For a last time.” He sounds desperate pleading like that. Jae’s heart thuds against his ribs, pumping his blood to make his cheeks blush and filling his groin with much anticipation. He grimaces instead.

“I don’t have lube or condoms,” he tries half-heartedly whereas Brian shakes his head.

“Spit and I haven’t slept with anyone since—” Brian chokes on his own words when Jae cocks an eyebrow. Thankfully, they are both on the same page here. “You used a condom, right?”

Well, Jae doesn’t know. He was high that night and on top of that drunk. He remembers getting it off with the guy in the motel room but everything before and after is a black smudge in his memories. Maybe they used one, maybe not, and Jae hasn’t bothered to get a check-up (such a bad idea, he muses).

“It’s not like I could ask him now,” Jae shrugs and then throws Brian a pointed look.

Who, in turn, groans loudly. “I hate this guy. Why did you have to run off and—and do this shit?”

“Hey! I’m not the villain in this story!”

Brian exhales loudly through his nose. His hands settle on Jae’s waist with his thumbs drawing circles into his skin. His head falls forward onto Jae’s chest with a bit of force.

“I know.”

Should he be thanking the gods in heaven that the mood dies down? Brian’s request isn’t unusual per se… It’s just that Jae doesn’t like bottoming. He doesn’t do that, full stop. The only person ever who did it with him that way was, well, you know, Brian. It had always been something special when Brian topped because Brian, even though he was always somewhat controlling and animalistic during their sexual intercourse, has the ability to make Jae putty in his hands.

Jae can’t deny him anything. He even loves it. The feeling of Brian pounding into him from behind, pressing his head into the cushion, cutting off his airpipes—

Jae hastily clears his throat as he starts to zip up his pants and tuck his shirt into it, finding his way back into the driver’s seat again. The atmosphere turns from tense to even tenser – only this time from sexual electricity to drowning discomfort.

“You should go.”

Jae turns to Brian who only nods in response. His hands ball into fists and clench for a few times before he opens the door and leaves. He looks a last time at Jae like a lost puppy. Jae wants to punch him in the face.

Ah, how Jae has missed this feeling.

His patience runs thin with Brian’s pitiful look, so Jae leans over to shut the door in front of the other’s face. He doesn’t look back at all when he speeds off the lodge.

He wouldn’t bear the sight anyway.

~~~

It’s already deep dark night when Jae arrives at home. He throws his bag into the next best corner, passes the kitchen counter and grabs the bag perched on it, then ventures further into his flat to reach the bathroom. His shirt sticks to his sweaty back and chest.

Fuck the summer heat.

His skin prickles in consequence of travelling through the sun (fuck allergies and scars, really) and he really wants to scratch it to relieve the itch. His face feels disgusting with the skin heated under all that make-up. A look into the mirror shows him dark rings beneath his eyes and wow, he looks so done.

His fingers pick at the plastic peel of the bag from the kitchen counter. A small hand-written note from Chan that Jae quickly disregards as he empties the bag on the sink counter. He studies the content sturdily as there is some variety that Jae should be proud of.

A quick look at the clock tells him it’s late enough to sleep, so he takes two small pills out of a small box and rinses them with water from the sink. When he turns his back to the mirror to open the water in the shower, his mind jumps back to the bag.

“Fuck it,” Jae grumbles under his breath as he returns to the sink and grabs the small bag filled with white powder.

The process of preparing the cocaine for him to snort is somehow easy and something that has been ingrained into his muscle memory. His lines are neat, some kind of sick artwork, and Jae doesn’t take a second to be awed by that.

The hot water on his skin feels like hell with the hot temperatures outside. However, as it starts to soothe the ache in his muscles from a hard day, Jae starts to enjoy the shower, especially when he rubs down on his body in soft movements.

Just like Brian did. The circling motion on his body reminds him of thumbs digging into his hips. His mind procures the sound of deep moans and ghost touches against his body, so that his cock suddenly gains much interest and starts to harden.

With the cocaine kicking in that moment, Jae turns the water colder to get rid of the hot and bothered state his body wills itself into. Yet, he is touching himself everywhere. First along his chest and his nipples, down to his belly and lastly, his fingers reach around his half-hard dick and start tugging at it.

Jae imagines his fingers to be Brian’s. They are much bigger compared to his lanky ones and they do such a good work at getting Jae off. When his thumb presses against his shaft, a loud moan leaves his throat much expected.

It isn’t enough, though.

He feels much, very much. The cocaine amplifies everything. Every touch feels like fire, every breath makes his lungs burn. His vision is blurrier than usual, and his mind goes offline along the way.

Jae’s gasps get louder with every moan and riding on his high, he gets an even better idea. He brings his unoccupied fingers to his lips, coats them with his own spit and brings them down behind his back. His body should bristle at the sensation of a finger rubbing against his hole, but it doesn’t. Not when his mind helpfully supplies images of past occurrences that fingers penetrated his hole and—even better—Brian’s own dick.

The spit isn’t that good of an idea for fingering himself, but Jae doesn’t care much right now. This feels too good, especially after that denied orgasm in the car. Brian wanted to fuck him. Jae would’ve gladly let him.

He is two fingers in when he hits that one spot that makes him see stars. This is so much better than he remembers it. He hits is prostate again and again, thrusting back on his finger and forward into the hand around his cock.

His head hits the wall and he presses his heated cheek against the cool tile, turning his head to get that feeling of being pushed into a pillow. The tile is much harder though, so Jae enjoys the pressure of his head against the cold surface, something he will definitely regret at the end of the day.

It doesn’t take long before he reaches his climax. Jae comes with a load moan. His hole clenches around his fingers inside him, and his cock spurts lines of white against the dark tiles of his shower, being immediately washed away.

Jae leans back against the wall and tries to slow down his breath and heartbeat while the water patters against his body. When he turns his head to cool his other cheek, he jumps in surprise when he sees a black blurry lump standing in what is presumably the entrance of his bathroom.

“Had some fun?”

Thank god Jae knows this voice. “That’s creepy, Wonpil.” He sounds breathless. He is breathless. Strange. His very blurred hand reaches up to his pounding heart. Maybe Jae should worry about the speed it races with.

“Hyung?” The amused lilt to Wonpil’s voice vanishes when Jae slides down the tile with his hands pressing against his chest.

That’s what he remembers because next thing he knows he lies on his side in his bed, fully dressed in a thick sweater and buried beneath an equally thick blanket. He feels someone shifting next to him until he can suddenly see clearly.

Wonpil stares down at him with a tight frown on his lips. Jae blinks up in confusion and rolls onto his back. His lips feel chapped and his throat burns as dry as it is. He gets wordlessly handed a glass of water with two pills that he drinks cautiously as it hurts his throat.

“What happened,” Jae eventually croaks when he falls back into his pillow and nudges his head further into it.

He feels Wonpil starting to caress his hair. It makes him sleepy.

“Taking opiates with stimulants isn’t that good of an idea if you have no idea what you’re doing, hyung.” Jae grunts in confusion and hears Wonpil sigh in response. “You nearly overdosed. Again.” The hand abruptly stops. The few strands between his fingers are tugged lightly. “You have to stop that. A drug addiction is some serious shit that you don’t want to deal with.”

“I’m not an addict,” Jae mumbles sleepily into his pillow. He rolls over to bury his head into Wonpil’s thigh. The fabric of the jeans burns slightly against his dry skin. “I’m perfectly fine.”

The hand suddenly tugs lightly at Jae’s hair to make him look up, only to see a disappointed frown on Wonpil’s face. Right, that’s what Jae wants to see first thing whatever time it is right now.

“Cocaine is highly addictive and you should know that as a high-maintenance drug dealer. Plus, this is the second time that I have to drag you from the bathroom to the bed. I don’t like where this is heading to.”

Jae groans loudly and turns away from Wonpil. Even the sun shining brightly into his face is better than dealing with the things Wonpil is throwing into his face. He is too sleepy, too hungover and too not interested in this shit.

“No, listen, hyung.” A hand on his shoulder tries to roll him back but Jae doesn’t budge an inch. “There isn’t anything that cocaine can make better.”

“Cocaine fucks better,” Jae retorts over his shoulder, smirking at the flustered view of Wonpil.

“Yeah—well— That’s not—” When Jae starts laughing into his pillow, Wonpil responses by hitting him in the arm until Jae pleads for him to stop. “God, you’re impossible sometimes!”

“Love you, too, Pillie.”

Maybe it’s already morning with the sun shining down on Jae’s face. Maybe it’s much later in the day. Maybe not. He doesn’t know. Only that it feels so nice lying there in the sun, soaking in the warmth through his skin. His eyes are resting closed, sticking together as if they were born to do so. His body is completely relaxed and if it weren't for the headache, maybe this could be nice.

Warm, cozy and sleepy. Just how Jae likes it. Especially when Wonpil aligns his body against his, pressing his chest to Jae’s back and arms clinging to him like a sloth. His chin lies over Jae’s crown, their breathing in sync.

Jae likes slow mornings. He remembers them warmly with Wonpil, every morning during hard times where Jae didn’t want to leave the bed at all.

Maybe if they have met at another place and time, in another universe, maybe then they could have had a chance. Broken hearts that found each other, sought out comfort, affection and a way to mend the other.

“I’m going to miss this.”

Wonpil takes a sharp breath at Jae’s whispered confession and his fingers dig deeper into his skin. He is warm. A different kind of warm.

“You won’t.” A nose that nuzzles deeper into his hair. Lips that press a chaste kiss against his head. “You will remember this. Fondly. And then enjoy your much better life without us.”

“Come with me.”

His heart aches.

Wonpil shakes his head. “I can’t.”

He has heard those words before.

Now, Jae is smart enough to not ask. He wouldn’t like the answer anyway. There is no way that Wonpil could come with him. Wonpil belongs here in this life, Jae doesn’t. The similarity of this situation makes reality so much harder as it crushes into him. Where his heart has ached before, it throbs painfully now. Where his eyes have been closed before, he presses them tighter together to prevent tears from falling down on his cheeks.

Lips press a kiss against his temple, then wander down to his ear. The breath tickles. “Promise me to never take cocaine again, okay?”

Jae slowly opens his eyes. The sunlight hurts his eyes, a burning sensation that he ignores in favor of staring at the guitar in its stand. His little friend, the only thing left from home.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “I’ve read once,” Jae says slowly, closing his eyes again, “That taking cocaine feels the same as falling in love.”

“Oh, hyung.”

Jae curls into a ball at the broken tone in Wonpil’s voice. Jae knows what he said. What it implies. He knows how bad it sounds in the way his heart breaks apart into all the pieces that have taken so long for Wonpil to patch together again.

“Hyung, look at me.” A hand cups his cheek and even though Jae presses against it, his head turns with its movement. He can barely look at Wonpil through the veil of his tears glazing over his eyes. Wonpil’s thumb strokes over his cheek to dry the tears as he presses a long kiss on his forehead.

“At one point in the future, the night will end and colors will paint your sky again. If it is with or without Younghyun-hyung that’s for you to decide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally got the scene that was left out between the first and second chapter, but now don't know what Jae talked about with Sungjin. And we finally have a proper real talk between Jae and Brian that ended in a break-up (yet they are still chasing and loving each other). Which means... We're in the endgame, guys! Only four chapters left.
> 
> Next chapter - Track 14: Every night when I close my eyes, I become more and more afraid that I will not have a tomorrow...


	14. Track 14: Every night when I close my eyes, I become more and more afraid that I will not have a tomorrow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'mma tell you, make a note of which song you have the lyrics from. I had to google for, like, 10 minutes until I found it again
> 
> Title from Day6 - Best Part
> 
> This part 1 of 2 from the big night. Buckle your seatbelts and get ready for badass Jae again.

The darkness of the night covers the city in a blanket of black. There is neither the moon up in the sky nor stars with their wonderful shine. Where once people could see the infinity of the universe is now nothing more than thick, gray clouds rolling along the horizon.

Even during the stormiest night and the darkest hours Seoul doesn’t sleep. Streets aren’t empty with cars speeding through the scenery and people seeking their homes in drunken laughter. Lamps are fighting back the shadows creeping out of the crevices of the street and umbrellas shield their owners from the pouring of the sky.

Rain patters into puddles. A harmonic melody in a calming rhythm. It reverberates through the air, covering the clatter of the wind blowing through the buildings. The sticky summer heat cools down to something more bearable, a certain freshness sticks to it.

It’s a serene scenery that draws itself on the night of the 8th September. The clock strikes somewhere around four and the world keeps turning. Seoul is a big city, big enough for the shadows to find their place to grow; a small street hidden in a maze of buildings, only a small lamp dimly lights up the area. One trash container next to the other, metallic and rustic, giving off a burning stench that the rain can never wash off.

Between two such containers Jae breathes heavily despite the stark smell. His gasps are nearly inaudible through the loud rain, yet they are coming out of his mouth quite desperately.

Jae throws his jacket into the bin after struggling to take it off. He then watches the fabric around his arms getting wet from the rain. The water turns a light red where it flows down on his hands-- his deep red stained hand--, drop for drop washing off the blood from them.

It feels hypnotic watching it. It doesn’t matter how much water pours down on them as the redness doesn’t want to fade at all. Not with Jae staring motionless at them.

With a loud and tearing scream, he wrenches himself out of his black shirt, the fabric following the jacket into the trash. His arms are covered in healed wounds and fresh scars. His skin is clear there, an ashen gray tone that sickens him too much. He brings his arm up to rub against his lips. A sob tears out of his throat when he sees his arm stained in red.

It’s desperation that clings to him when he fishes his shirt out of the trash and uses it to rub off the blood from his arms. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and nothing happens. He screams again when he throws the shirt on the ground and buries his hands into his hair until he remembers the blood on them and tears out a few strands in his haste to get his hands off his face.

They tremble when he reaches for the backpack on the ground. His sight is blurry from all the tears escaping his eyes, mixing with the rain and meeting the red on the floor. His fresh hoodie sticks to his skin and its hood protects him from prying eyes. Jae throws the backpack over his shoulder and leaves the street, not once trying to stop crying.

Jae doesn’t stop to look back at the ruinous building. Not when there is a car waiting for him a few streets over, not when the image of intense eyes stained with red is burned into his mind. A last kiss that tasted metallic and still tingles on his lips.

What is left of his conscious makes the guilt so much worse. Jae is about to leave it all behind and looking back is something he promised himself not to do at all.

~~~ _24 hours earlier ~~~_

_7 th September, 4 a.m._

The rain has long started when awakes in his bed. The pillow feels smooth against his cheek, the blanket keeps him warm and nice. A set of arms hold him tight against the body behind him. A quick look at his phone tells Jae what time it is. It’s early enough to rise and shine.

The sun hasn’t even started to rise but Jae is already wandering around his apartment and does—well, he cleans. Sort of. He has his big bag where he puts in everything he absolutely cannot live without. He starts with raiding his mounts of notebooks where he has scribbled in ideas and lyrics up to important information about everyone he met the last few years.

His favorite glasses, a few hoodies and pants, a hard drive with a copy of his notebooks and, just for safety measure, a gun that he puts in the bottom of the bag. He also includes a bit of his finest jewelry and sleeping pills (and proudly flushes down his whole stash of cocaine). No phone, no laptop, nothing that can be tracked back to him. Everything he needs is either freshly printed or already raided out of his safe.

Last but not least he packs his guitar into its box, safely packed in bubble wrap. He takes out a pen and fills out the small sticker with the shipping address. His heart beats excitedly when he doesn’t use hangul for the name, especially when he fills out the United States as the destination country.

Home.

In less than twenty-four hours Jae will be on his way home.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon when Jae hears some movement from the bedroom. His eyes stay glued to fire crackling in the pot as he throws in one paper after another. White turns into black until it falls to ashes.

It doesn’t come with a surprise when arms envelope him in a hug from behind and a body presses itself into his back. The body is warm against his and the breath calms the nervous flow of his blood.

“It’s early,” Wonpil mutters into his back. He nuzzles deeper into Jae’s spine, clinging tightly to him.

Jae pats against Wonpil’s arms with a chuckle. “There’s much to do for me.” They begin to shuffle on the spot, going with the flow of the music playing in their minds. Jae tears another paper apart and throws the pieces into the flames. “Some things to clear.”

“I saw that you already packed your bags.”

The last pieces fly into the fire. The edges slowly turn coal black, the blue tint vanishing with the blackness.

Jae turns around in the hug and throws his own arms around Wonpil’s neck, smiling down warmly to him. “Missing me already?” he asks teasingly.

“Yes,” Wonpil doesn’t miss a beat to answer. He doesn’t take on Jae’s teasing tone, instead he has his lips set into a serious frown and his eyes gleam with sadness. “We’ll never see each other again after today. I’m going to miss you, hyung.”

Jae swallows around the sudden dryness in his throat. His attempt at smiling ends in a grimace when reality hits him hard. Kind of. Maybe. It still feels surreal.

“I’m going to miss you, too.” He leans his head against Wonpil’s shoulder to hide the wetness of his eyes. His heart breaks at the thought of never seeing him again. Wonpil is—in a way, he is everything to Jae. The one thing he doesn’t want to leave. “Wish you could come with me.”

Lips press against his temple softly. Again and again. “Just promise me to become happy, alright?”

He nods against the shoulder before he turns his head to the other. Their lips grace against each other and Jae takes the moment to dive in for a last kiss. Wonpil tastes sweet with no lingering taste of cigarettes. His lips are soft and plump, slowly moving against his own. Wonpil’s kisses are shy and slow where he gives Jae control over everything. There is no pull behind and no push waiting for him. Wonpil follows his lead, obediently, and Jae likes it.

It’s different from what he is used to.

(Different from Younghyun.)

A moment of clarity where Jae pulls back and puts some distance to Wonpil while his eyes never stray away from the floor. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay.” When Jae doesn’t look up to him, Wonpil takes his chin between his fingers. What he sees then is the encouraging smile of his maybe best friend ever. “It’s you after all.”

“But Dowoon—”

“It’s alright. Really, trust me.” Two hands grab his arms when Wonpil’s smile brightens. His eyes wrinkles in amusement. “Dowoonie won’t come after your head. He gets it.”

Really. He wants to cry at the relationship between Wonpil and Dowoon. Their relationship, for them being a psychopathic killer and hooker pair, is some pure and innocent shit. They both seem like two soulmates found by accident when in reality they grew close and eventually fell in love with each other.

Unlike the eloping experience Jae had with a certain other psychopathic killer. (He isn’t envious of that. Just a bit jealous.)

Jae clears his throat to will the lingering awkwardness away. He starts flittering around the kitchen and tidies up the mess he’s made. His head meanwhile goes through the schedule of the day.

“Don’t forget about our 12 o’clock appointment.”

Wonpil snorts. “How could I?”

~~~ _20h earlier~~_ ~

_7 th September 8 am_

The bell over the door tingles when Jae enters the small saloon. No other customer visits at this hour; Jae is glad that Jamie agreed to open it early enough for him. Said person now smirks at his entrance with scissors already ready in her hand, and everything sort of falls into place.

Jae sits back in a chair like he’s used to, and Jamie starts grooming his hair like she always does. Her long fingers massage his head and every thought flies out of the window just like that. The calmness of the situation makes him drowsy where his early hours finally catch up, so he closes his eyes to enjoy the quietness of the morning.

“You should at least entertain me if I’m kind enough to open this early for you.” Jae hears a smile in Jamie’s light nab and takes her soft tug at his strand as such too. It makes his own smile grow wider whereas Jamie pokes his cheek. “First, you vanish for weeks, then you call me out of the blue for an impromptu haircut and now you just sit here without a word.”

He can’t withhold the chuckle anymore. Jamie is, against all her tries to be intimidating and scary, at times endearing. Jae may be scared of her sometimes, but then Jamie shows a much more caring side of her. A rather good friend that he has.

“A lot happened, Jamie,” Jae sings teasingly. Jamie only clicks her tongue to make him spill the tea. “Wonpil finally got together with Dowoon, and after a short vacation with Brian, I’m finally done and through with the guy. Alas, as of today—”

Ah. Right. There is that.

Jae is happy enough to see Jamie again after such a long time that he forgot about the real reason behind his visit (except for the fact that his hair got too long for his liking). Jamie is, after all, his only friend that isn’t involved in all this mobster shit. A constant in Jae’s life that helped him to regain a bit of normalcy and peace for his mind.

Where Jae is sad to leave Wonpil behind, he is undoubtedly upset over the fact of leaving her.

Another tug at his hair. “What is from today on?” A wet pearl drops from his hair to his covered shoulder, a splatter like rain. “And what do you want me to do with your hair? Just shorten it a bit or are you feeling a new color?”

“A spiced up black?” Jamie raises her eyebrows. “Just shorten it and maybe—I don’t know, highlights?”

“Highlights.”

“Yes, highlights.” Maybe. He doesn’t know. Not when Jamie throws him a look. “What?”

She shakes her head, chortling a laugh. “Nothing. You’re just an easy tease.”

Getting his wet hair brushed is a feeling he wants to remember for all time. The light pressure of the brush soothes his ever-existing headache and the finger carding through his strands relieve any further ache. Maybe Jae should think about hiring a personal stylist who will do his hair every day just to get a light head massage for an hour (but then again, there is someone _doing his hair every day_. Jae likes his messy hair days and looking like a slob sometimes).

“You finally got laid by Brian?”

If Jamie weren’t currently working his hair with a pair of scissors, Jae would startle in his seat and then get stabbed into his eye by said scissor. Although, he should already be used by Jamie’s upfront manners by now.

Plus, no point in lying here, so Jae gets out a short “Yes” followed by a lengthier “And then I found out he tried to kill me.”

The snipping stops and Jamie draws back to look at Jae with a horrified expression. “He tried what?!”

And then Jae proceeds to spill out the content of his heart. He begins with the urgent need of leaving the city to get a vacation from the mobster life (a lie because Jae is still adamant about keeping Jamie out of the sad life that he would claim as his) and ends with their fall-out after Jae did some snooping around like good ole Sherlock Holmes and put one and one together.

“Okay, lemme get this straight.” Jamie blinks at him in confusion. “He plans all this shit like sabotaging your business and hires hitmen to go after your head just to get you away from the city and bang you seven ways to Sunday?”

“Ah, no, the leaving city part is my fault and not his… I think?”

Jamie hums. “This doesn’t make any sense. You say that he threatened to take your life, so you’d leave the city for a better life, but once he saw that you are able to be cruel, he decided to keep you instead?” Jae nods in confirmation. Jamie’s frown pulls down even more. “That’s nuts. Are you sure you didn’t get anything wrong?”

“What?”

“Maybe he did all of this out of love?”

“Love?”

“Yes, love.” Jamie once again starts cutting his hair. The confusion melts off her face to something more… blank. As if she is preparing herself to deliver some truth bombs that Jae doesn’t want to hear. “I mean, I’m one hundred percent sure that he loves you because otherwise he wouldn’t have started this dumb plan at all.”

Jae snorts indignantly. “You don’t plan to kill someone because you love him.”

“Sometimes love works in this twisted way. Imagine you are in his shoes. The love of your life is pulled into a life that is full of crime and death and you have to fear for his life every waking moment.”

“I don’t have to imagine it at all.” It is Jae’s reality for years after all.

“See? And then imagine that person isn’t Brian but you. An innocent scaredy-cat who can’t watch a horror movie to the end without clinging to Wonpil the whole night. Who wouldn’t worry about you, huh?”

“Is this your way of telling me that you worry?”

Jamie flicks her fingers against his forehead. It hurt, like, a lot. “Not the point, Jae.” The stench of bleach reaches his nose, acidic and unpleasant. “What I’m trying to say is that maybe Brian meant it all in a good way. This is his way of protecting you – getting you out of his life. And be honest with me—did you let him explain himself?” When Jae stays silent, Jamie flicks him again. “See? You don’t talk. That’s your problem.”

Jae groans in answer and lets his head fall back against the chair. Jamie chides him for doing so and possibly ruining the highlights. “Don’t make this a counsellor session where you tell me the cliched ‘you don’t talk to each other enough’ shit—”

“You don’t and that’s—”

“I’m just trying to say good-bye to you. Don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

The faint ticking of a clock makes the sudden silence heavier than it is. Jae is acutely aware of his own breathing and heartbeat. A certain kind of sorrow lays itself on his bones. A deep aching that lingers beneath an even more aching longing that he has eventually poured his devotion into.

A longing that is as endless as this deep dark sea he lives in. Where he has once given up and sunken down deeper and farther away from the shallow, he now kicks his way up to finally reach the surface. It is near enough after so much time has passed and yet, he looks back to the ground to see the endless faces he will come to miss.

Already misses.

With Jamie being a small part of those things that made the gray summers bearable by showing him what life could be outside his ocean, is he then finally able to see the beautiful colors of the leaves falling down the trees?

“What do you mean ‘say good-bye’?” Jae takes his time to open his eyes. He tries a comfortable smile, something that he sees coming out more saddened than bright. He pushes his fingers against the furrow between her brows before he realizes that Jamie doesn’t flinch back. “Are you leaving?”

“As of today, Seoul won’t be mine to be claimed as home anymore.” His words sound dramatic in a way that will only be found in a historic drama (and since when isn’t Jae’s life a drama?).

Jamie doesn’t take this as an answer though. “Has it ever earned the right to be called such?”

Once Jamie’s phrase would have made him toss and turn in the night because being confronted with a truth that is always lingering at the back of his mind never works good for Jae. He has lived his life long enough in pretenses to make the best of it. Outside of those pretenses, he has long begun to plan the day that is today because the truth always finds its way outside.

“I will leave Seoul once the sun rises the next day. Today is the last you will see of me.”

He hears Jamie taking a deep breath before she continues with her work. The clock ticks. Jamie eventually says, “Finally.”

And that’s it.

There are no more words needed. All things unsaid are understood in a different way. Jamie doesn’t know the full extent of his dark life --a blissful ignorance that Jae has gifted her with every of his visit-- but she knows enough to get the urge that pulses through Jae’s veins. Maybe it’s because of Jae’s constant nagging of how much he hates his life, maybe also because the rings beneath his eyes got darker and darker every time they had seen each other – but at the end of the day, Jamie is his friend who doesn’t need to know everything to get Jae.

It’s this beauty that characterizes their friendship.

His hair turns out beautiful – as always. The former dull black shines in the light and the blond highlights make it seem more intriguing than it is. And even though Jamie’s job is finished, she suddenly pulls out her make-up box and starts lining his eyes, gives his cheeks a rosy tint and finishes the glamourous look with a light pink lipstick. All without a comment and without charge.

Needless to say, Jae gives her nearly thrice of what he has to pay. Unexpectedly, Jamie tries to give it back to him quite desperately.

“You’ll need it more than me.”

Jae beams at the gesture and – in a moment that they both will deny ever happened with every fiber of their body – envelops her in a deep hug that expresses all the gratefulness he has for her. Every thanks and welcome that has stashed itself in Jae’s heart over the years are poured into the hug.

“I’ll call you once I’m safe,” Jae promises lightly (knowing full well that he won’t keep it) and earns a punch against his arm. Jamie doesn’t take his promise as such and only shakes her head. She is nice to him, nicer than Jae has thought her to be able to be (especially when she declined the money because normal Jamie would charge him for paying too much).

“Good luck with life. Take care. And don’t forget to eat, otherwise you’ll get even more wrinkles in your face.”

He laughs at her teasing comments heartily and leaves the place with one look back.

Too much money rests on the counter atop of a postcard.

~~~ _16h earlier_ ~~~

_7 th September, 12 am_

Last time Jae was here, the white empty room made him feel claustrophobic. The floor is one single room, each corner evenly lit by lamps and full-length windows. The only furniture in the room are the white table in the middle and two white chairs surrounding it.

Last time Jae hadn’t known what he could expect from their meeting. Today, though, Jae has all the reigns in his hands. Johnny is staring grimly at him, his leg jumping up and down in nervous anticipation. Who could fault him for that, especially after the curt phone call days ago?

Jae strides over to Johnny while straightening the lapels of his black jacket. Jamie did a fantastic job of doing his hair and make-up and Jae rounded his look up with accessories like black, round glasses on his nose.

The chair scrapes over the floor when Jae takes it out to take a seat on it. How the tables have turned, huh? He sees the unusual furrow in Johnny’s otherwise blank face.

“You have what I want?” Jae gets to the point directly and Johnny sits even straighter when he slides over the paper between his fingers. A short look confirms that this is what Jae wants and he hums after a more prolonged look at it. “Seems about right.”

Johnny breathes in heavily through his nose and leans back in his chair. He scrapes for what is left of his power. A pitying try if you ask Jae. “I did what you wanted me to. Let him go now.”

Jae clicks his tongue at the impatient tone that Johnny’s voice has taken on. “Why should I?”

“You said you will.” Johnny hits the table with his hand. His composure is broken, nothing that Jae hasn’t expected. Not after that call. “You told me you let him go if I bring you this.”

“Did I, though?” The satisfaction Jae feels when Johnny’s face falls is really, really fulfilling.

Maybe we should wind back a few days.

Not many members of the Six are pry to this information. No, only the inner circle knows about it. In the near vicinity of Jae’s warehouse Wonpil owns such a building himself. It is smaller and more hidden than Jae’s. A sinister place where the evilest deeds are done by Wonpil. The floor is immaculate clean and so is the rest of that gray room with now windows at all. A single chair in the middle and a lot of storage space that looks like it belongs to a hunter. Or a mechanic. A car is parked there, just for the looks of it.

The truth of it?

It’s the place where Wonpil brings his victims to for torturing and eventually killing them. The room, immaculate clean (remember?), wouldn’t pass a UV-light investigation.

Jae hasn’t ever set a foot into that place since only the thought of it makes the bile rise in his throat. He is rather innocent in regard to Wonpil’s psychopathic side (blissful ignorance you may call it). That day, it was different.

That day, Jae stood with a blank face in the room and shone a bright lamp into the face of Wonpil’s latest mission. Victim. A painful sight in every sense.

Blood gushed out of the cuts on his cheek and lips. The otherwise shining black hair hung dimly into his face. His breathing was ragged and eyes filled with much fear and pride. He wasn’t broken and Jae wouldn’t illusion himself to think that he could be broken.

Ten wasn’t like that. Ten was strong and held his head high where others would have long given up. He wore his hard life on his shoulders with a certain dignity and stopped seeking light outside of his darkness when he found it within himself. Jae admired Ten in every way, and that made it so hard to do this.

He took a picture of the bloody sight and pressed the call button to a number that he hadn’t dared to press for weeks. It doesn’t take long until the line connects.

“Long time no see, Park Jaehyung!” Johnny greeted him happily whereas Jae started to frown. He had a mission and as much as it pained him to rip that happiness away from Johnny (in all honesty, it didn’t hurt at all. Johnny was a liar and Jae was petty), he had to follow through with it.

“Johnny Suh!” Jae faked the cheerful tilt in his voice. “So glad to speak to you.” Maybe too fake as his cheer slid into sarcasm.

Johnny didn’t seem to be too startled by that. “What can I do for you?”

But the lack of questioning about Jae’s whereabouts clued him in on the fact that Johnny had to know. No wonder since he prided himself as being an informant. Jae cut immediately to chase.

“Did Younghyun tell you everything?” When Johnny didn’t answer immediately, Jae pressed further. “I mean, you two worked together, right?”

Johnny spoke in a controlled manner. Jae could imagine the blank face of his when he said, “I never promised loyalty to your person. Only to the offer that you can make.”

“Then I’m curious.” Jae turned back to the scene where Wonpil had a hand clamped against a squeamish Ten. Wonpil didn’t struggle too much at keeping him quiet, not with the threatening knife against Ten’s throat. “What was Younghyun’s offer that made mine invalid?” He could hear the intake of a breath, but Jae wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t want to hear answers he already knew. “Ah, right. It’s about Ten, yeah? What more can he promise you than his freedom?”

“This doesn’t concern you at all, Jaehyung.”

“Does it, though? Even if I make you an offer that you can’t decline? Needless to say that our initial contract will be nullified.”

Jae knew he nearly had him. “What do you want?” An informant that knew the grand scheme but couldn’t see further than his own interest.

“The Sun.”

Johnny’s laugh cackled over the connection. “I’m an informant, Jae, not a businessman.” He sounded so chiding, it made Jae’s blood boil.

Calm was his devise for today though. Jae took a breath to keep the blankness in his voice. “You deal with information; this makes you a businessman. And you have the means to acquire the club.”

“I don’t know how—”

“You told me so when we first met.” Jae made sure to convey the smug smile over the phone. He wanted Johnny to get the full package of their power play (that Jae had won, of course). “Your boss, Lee Taeyong, is a former underling of Lee Sooman, the same man who put EXO to where they are now.”

The amusement in Johnny’s voice was gone. He had his serious business-tone on. “Why should I do what you want?”

“Like I said, I have an offer that you can’t decline.”

Jae moved to Ten whose eyes hardened with every step more. He shoved the phone into Ten’s face and motioned for Wonpil to remove his hand. Ten didn’t speak a word, he made no sound at all. It only took a short and simple nod to Wonpil before he rammed the knife into Ten’s leg. There was no scream, not with how hard Ten clenched his teeth and kept his mouth shut. Jae saw tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

To make him finally scream, Jae squeezed his jaw and squished his cheeks together. The pressure was hard against his fingers and probably even hurt Ten more. Wonpil pushed the knife further into the leg and then twisted it again and again while his other hand tugged hard at Ten’s hair. Ten’s eyes rolled to the back of his head until he finally let out a groan in pain and agony, wheezed at the pain in his leg.

This had to be enough, especially when Jae’s hands started to shake too hard. He brought the phone back to his ears, right after sending Johnny the picture he shot before the call.

“The stakes are high, Johnny-boy.”

Fast forward to today.

The contract feels smooth beneath his fingertips. No wrinkle can be found on the paper, all carefully packed into a folder. His eyes stick to the name of the club and the signature of none other than Kim Junmyeon – EXO’s leader– at the bottom.

His plan works out and Jae is more than satisfied about it. Especially once Johnny’s mask cracks when Jae doesn’t hand Ten over on a silver plate. Maybe Jae has told him that he may let Ten go if Johnny gets the club back for him, but Jae unfortunately suffers from memory loss. Or he conveniently forgot about the small deal he had made with Johnny. All is allowed in a war of love and desire. Or in their mobster life.

This sounds much better.

“You told me—” Johnny fletches his teeth and taps his finger again and again against the table. “—that you would give me Ten as soon as I get this contract for you. I begged on my knees in front of Taeyong like a fool and now I owe him. I _owe_ him. You don’t owe Taeyong something—”

“Why are you telling me that?” Johnny flinches back at Jae’s cold voice. He looks perplexed at how Jae crosses his legs and simply puts the folder into his lap with a polite smile on his lips. “I don’t care who Taeyong is or that you owe him now.” An amusing sight how Johnny opens his mouth and closes it again a few times, but no sound comes out. “You were lying to me the whole time we’ve known each other. This here? This is me getting back at you.”

As if on cue, the door behind Jae opens and Wonpil strides in with a not so good looking Ten, who – and for that he deserves every ounce of respect Jae can give him – holds his head high and walks as if the bandaged wound on his leg is anything but painful.

Johnny very much looks like as if he wants to jump out of his chair and run to the hurt boy. His shoulders are tense and his knuckles white where his fingers are intertwined. He doesn’t do that, though, and Jae is impressed.

Nonetheless, Johnny mutters a small ‘Ten’ once they finally reach the table. From the now small distance Jae notices the blues and greens that colors Ten’s otherwise immaculate skin. Striking red cuts compliment the colorful look of it.

As if Ten was a canvas that Wonpil had painted on with his fingers.

A small huff escapes Ten’s lips as Wonpil shoves him into the free chair that Jae has kindly offered to them. The hand on Ten’s shoulder isn’t kind though, not with how hard Wonpil is gripping it. And not to mention the gun pressed to the back of his head.

“I’m going to be honest.” Jae sits down at the corner of the table, facing the view outside the windows. Nothing interesting is to be seen there what with the empty building directly in front of this. A pitiful sight. “I was thinking about killing Ten.” A sharp breath from his left. “You need to learn a lesson after all. But then I thought better.” Now Jae turns his head to his left. “Just one question and you are free, Johnny.” He leans slightly forward. His higher position makes him much taller than Johnny sitting in his chair. “Who else knows about me?”

“Why should I tell you this?”

“Because I offer you freedom. Answer the question and I let Ten go.”

Ten moves in his periphery and starts opening his mouth. Wonpil is fast enough to clasp his hand over the lips.

Johnny licks over his own lips and leans back in his chair. He stares at Jae a few minutes before he answers simply, “Only Younghyun-ssi.” Jae cocks his head because he knows there is more to it. And he’s right. There is more. Johnny starts singing once he hears Wonpil’s gun cocking. “But I have a back-up. It’s in a place only I know of. Which means, if you only dare to think about shooting Ten, I will make sure that the information will be leaked to the public.”

“Only you know of the place?” Johnny nods. “Where is it?” He cocks his head towards Wonpil with the gun. Ten squirms in his place.

“I won’t tell you a thing.”

“And there is surely no other person pry of this information?”

“No.”

Jae turns to Wonpil. Their eyes lock instantly. It’s easy to communicate by that alone.

 _Stick to the plan_ , Jae tries to tell. Wonpil nods in agreement. He takes down the gun and frees Ten from his grasp while Jae walks over to stand next to the assassin. They watch the reunion of the pair with a heavy heart. Johnny touches Ten with careful fingers, cards them through the other’s hair, only watching him with gleaming eyes. A small smile plays over their lips. Johnny is gleeful to have Ten back, Ten is sad because he knows what will follow.

“Johnny?” Jae calls him for a last time. Johnny’s brows furrow instantly and his smile slips into a frown. Jae taps against his ear, smirking. “There is one thing I learnt from you, you know? Love and friendship is a much better motivator than all money in the world. I am nice enough to pay you by granting Ten freedom. Younghyun isn’t nice at all. He threatened you with Ten’s life. That’s when I realized that your loyalty never lied with any of us. It always belonged to him.”

“Johnny.” Ten urgently tugs at Johnny. “We have to go. Now!”

Jae doesn’t let himself being disturbed by that. He has already made his peace with what’s about to come. “And there is no ending to this story where I can let Ten go and have you with him. I hold my promises though, Ten is a free man – from Dowoon’s hands.” The wide eyes tell Jae that Johnny realizes his mistake. He didn’t ask. He didn’t dive deeper. An amateur’s mistake. “Wonpil on the other hand—” The dramatic shit that Wonpil is, he holds his gun up again, targeting Ten once again. “—will always have his eyes on him, wherever he may go. And Wonpil likes to chase his prey.”

Ten gets more anxious. He tugs again and again at Johnny who doesn’t budge an inch. His confusion on the other hand slowly melts into something akin to horror as he understands the wide ranged consequences of his mistake. He only exchanged one threat with another. He wanted freedom and got blood in return.

“You told me he’s going to be free.”

“I also told you I wanted to teach you a lesson. Alas, I’ll be gone in just a few hours and honestly, I’m tired of waking up every night and wondering if little Johnny here tries to leak any information about me just to get Wonpil off of Ten’s back.” Jae wiggles his fingers at Ten, his face blank as a sheet. “The threat on his life is only to make sure that he doesn’t talk. Ten knows what Wonpil is capable of and how far he is willed to go for me. You, on the other hand, need to be silenced as well.”

When Jae had entered the room, he knew that only two people were in the building. He didn’t look over his shoulder to check for intruders or other possible threats. Jae knew that it would only be him and Johnny. That’s what love does – builds trust in the words of your enemy when you believe to have the upper hand.

The whole truth to the story? Jae already knew days ago that once he leaves this place, only three people will do so. As such, it doesn’t come in surprise but in some act of obligatory cruelty when Wonpil retargets his gun and shoots directly into Johnny’s heart. The silencer keeps the shot mute and not one of them screams in horror – because just as Jae knew how this is going to end, Ten has known it as well.

It doesn’t matter anymore as Johnny’s body lies bleeding on the floor in an immaculate white room, staining it a deep bloody red. Ten falls on his knees next to him and puts his hand against the gushing wound, cards lose strands out of Johnny’s face with careful fingers, and whispers little nothings to make death as sweet as possible.

Wonpil and Jae don’t stay to watch the heartbreaking scene. Not when Jae crashes into the elevator wall and slides down against it, right to his knees to heave on the floor. Wonpil is patting against his back and whispers the same sweet nothings against his hair, just like Ten is doing to a now dead Johnny.

At least, this is normal ground between them – Jae being really bad at handling Wonpil killing people and Wonpil being really good at handling Jae losing parts of himself because he is the one who gave Wonpil the task.

Jae isn’t any better than Wonpil. He is a killer, that’s sure, but hopefully today will be the last day he has to kill ever.

~~~ _14h earlier_ ~~~

_7 th September, 2 pm_

Wind whips around his face on this nice summer day at the rooftop. Jae takes a deep breath and marvels at the clouds in the sky that thankfully withhold the sun shining down on him. Fuck allergies. He sniffs at the polluted air and is glad it isn’t as bad as back down there. The wind is refreshing on his heated skin from the warm temperatures of the day.

It doesn’t take long until the door behind him opens and another person joins him at the railing. Jae doesn’t turn to him, instead holds his eyes close to the city. Somehow the picture of a wide clear ocean spreads out in his inner eye. He sees a cloudless and deep blue sky with a bright sun warming the air. The water is calm and undisturbed. Only small waves hit the sand on the beach, dunking the ochre ground to a deep brown.

He can nearly smell the salt in the air and hear the calming sound of the tide. A summer that can only be found at home.

“You tell me to meet you urgently but hopefully not to admire the view, right?”

Thank god for police inspector Eric Nam interrupting the rise of longing under his skin. His fingers already brim in excitement of getting back to the clear blue ocean and out of the deep darkness in this place.

“No, but there’s nothing against admiring the view.”

Eric leans his arms against the rails and follows suit. His eyes scan the horizon behind all those skyscrapers. The wind flows through his black strands and something calm settles on his face. Jae takes his eyes off the police inspector and takes in the view again. Rather beautiful, isn’t it?

“Is everything alright after… what happened last time?”

Right, Jae has nearly forgotten about their last meeting when Jae was coming down from his high, competed in an involuntary car race, and Eric had to bail him out then. The events of that embarrassing drive home got overridden by the crueler scene of Brian shooting a man in front of him.

Priorities, right?

“I’m finally going home.” Jae tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear to where it belongs. He hears Eric taking a sharp breath, sees fingers clamping around the railing.

“Home as in America or what—what do you mean by that?”

At last, he turns his head to the suddenly flustered inspector. Jae has taken a liking to Eric throughout the last few weeks. He is nice company even though their jobs are as different as day and night. Eric hunts down the bad guys whereas Jae, the bad guy, flees from people such as Eric.

Maybe in another life they could have been good friends.

“Away from Seoul.” Just for good measure, he throws in a confident smile. And a finger gun. That is maybe too much as Eric awkwardly raises his eyebrows. “The point is: today’s the last day you can enjoy my company, my dear friend. And I thought that maybe—” Jae bends down and procures two bottles of beer out of bag, opening it with some difficulty until Eric has mercy on him and does it himself. “Maybe we could drink on that. Cheer to the last day of working together.”

Eric looks stunned to him. The beer funnily doesn’t fit to the rest of his otherwise casual outfit. Not once has Jae seen him in a police uniform, he muses before he discards the thought to listen to Eric’s confused question. “You call me to meet up here for a drink because you are leaving the city for probably forever?!”

“Yes, seems about right.”

“No, not ‘seems about right’!” Eric motions with his hands and Jae follows the beer to see if he’s going to spill something. “First of all, you are my informant, you are the key to my investigation. Without you I wouldn’t be as far as I am—”

“I serve where I can help,” Jae cuts in cheekily.

“—and second of all, why are you even telling me this? I could arrest you on the spot.”

“But you won’t.” Jae clinks their bottles together and takes a long swig from the unfortunately already warm beer. It is satisfying nonetheless, more so when Eric takes a large swig, too. “You still need me. And I need you.”

“Why, though? I thought you are leaving?”

Jae clicks his tongue and starts beaming at Eric. “Tomorrow. I’m leaving tomorrow. Before that, I have something very interesting to do for you.”

This seems to calm Eric down. A bit. His confusion changes into something more cautious. “And you will tell me what that is, right?”

“Yup,” Jae plops the ‘p’ loudly. “And you’ll love it. You will love it so much you’re going to send me flowers to my new address and express your utmost thanks after you became head of the police.”

“I’m not even close to becoming head of the police,” Eric mutters under his breath. He takes another sip of his beer, eyeing Jae again and again. “Are you finally serving me G-Dragon’s head on a silver plate?”

“Better.”

“Better? What in the world is better than—” The way Eric nearly loses his shit once he realizes what Jae is insinuating; his eyes double in their size, he nearly spills his beer. The dumbfounded look of his is Jae’s most favorite expression so far. Eventually, Eric sighs and takes many more swigs from his bottle after muttering a “I need something stronger than this” under his breath.

“You on board?”

Eric side-eyes him. “What a question is this?” Jae’s lips tuck upwards. “When haven’t I been on board?”

Jae lets the words rest between them. The wind still calmly blows around them while the sun shines the brightest on this light day. He can hear the waves in his inner ears and embraces the thought of the future with tingling fingers.

“You’re from LA, right?”

Home.

“Near Cerritos. Went to the South Cal University before all of this happened.”

Do his parents still live there? That small home where Jae grew up, a small white house in a row with others not so different but still different ones. What about their neighbors who liked to mow the lawn every Saturday morning? The little scouts selling cookies at the doorstep for some planned trip to the mountain or the beach? Oh, the beach. How Jae misses the beach of Los Angeles.

The beach is all nice and that, less nice if you are allergic to the sun, but at night when the sun has long set and only the stars are your companion under the cover of the dark blue night — Jae remembers it fondly. Many people find themselves there at night to watch the fading lights of the canvas that is the sky. Jae, though, knows a better place. A small bay where only so many people fit in. It’s a bit difficult to get there but once you know the path, it’s easy.

It had been a clear night with no cloud obscuring the view of the few stars shining there. He was giggling the whole time with the small amount of alcohol in his system. His heart warms at the thought of another hand warming his own back then. He felt secure and protected. He didn’t slip or fall, they reached the shore and let themselves down onto the soft sand, their hands still intertwined.

Jae had looked up in awe because that night was brighter than any other. Few stars found themselves in groups of many to light the way for Amor to the loving couple in the sand. His heart fluttered hard against his ribcage at every smallest movement from the person next to him.

He only had to turn around to see the glimmer in the other’s eyes, watching him instead of the breath-taking sky. Even then Younghyun was beautiful. His blond hair melted into the sand. The brown irises darkened with the lack of light and yet, Jae could discover universes in them. He might come across as a romantic if he says that maybe he had searched for the light in Younghyun’s eyes during the darkest hours because Younghyun himself shone brighter than the sun in the day.

The beach holds many fond memories for Jae that he can’t help himself to neglect. Not when it brings him some peace to his mind that maybe there is still some light to be found in Younghyun.

It’s Eric who disturbs his nostalgic thoughts of the beach. Maybe it’s for the best as Jae notices how fast his heart pounds at the thought of having Brian by his side again—

“After all the time I spent with you, there is still one thing I’m wondering about.”

Jae doesn’t bother to look at him. He is still chasing after the thought of living at the beach again. “And what is that?”

“How did you get here?” Eric backtracks quickly when Jae gives him the side-eye. “I mean, you are a full-fledged mobster now. But when we talk or when I get some insight into what might have been before… I get the feeling that there is only a lonely boy trapped in something dark that he doesn’t know how to get out of.”

And how Eric hit the nail in its coffin. A lonely boy lost in the darkness, searching for some light and color. A shallow description that is so fitting to Jae. Shallow, but lost in the deep.

“Why did you come to Korea?” Jae deflects instead, and Eric knows.

Eric cocks his head and sighs. “You know why. You’re Six’s informant. You know everything about everyone.” He throws him a look that Jae isn’t sure how to define. It’s something between dislike and a light fondness. “You may have been right the first time we met.”

“I tend to be that, yes.”

They both start chuckling. The mood is high with the bottles nearly empty. Jae knows what Eric means. It’s the whole point of this because maybe Jae had been searching for someone like Eric Nam after all.

“You haven’t heard this from me—” A sentence that sounds like an angel’s choir to Jae’s ears. “—but I know someone who could be able to help you settling down. A friend from college still owes me a favor.” A soft pat against his shoulder. “You helped me out here, Park Jaehyung. This is my payback.”

A great thank you, indeed. Jae’s heart warms a bit at the prospect of Eric’s help.

He returns the pat with his own on Eric’s arm. His lips tug a bit upwards. Hopefully, it looks as warm as Jae feels right now. As warm as the sun heating the black of his back, heating up the coldness of his insides.

“I really appreciate your offer. Maybe I’m taking you up on it.”

“That’s good. But let’s talk about that grand scheme you are planning, alright?”

~~~ _13 hours earlier_ ~~~

_7th September, 5pm_

There is something comforting in wearing all black. Black hair, black shirt, black jacket, black slacks, black shoes – only the silver of his earrings and the cross around his neck highlight something of his outfit.

Jae admires himself in the mirror. His fingers flitter over his jawline. The make-up covers the small bruises that are still littered everywhere on his skin. Soft scars brighten the already pale taint of his face. Jamie did a good job around his eyes with the deep orange and brown eyeshadow.

All black for the darkest night in Jae’s life. Just after that, maybe he can then finally reach that silver of light on the horizon. A small tint of orange and pink among the darkest blue and black that have long swallowed the stars lighting his path.

His fingers caress down along his throat to the cross around his neck. He carefully puts it into his palm and gives it a small kiss, holding it softly against his lips. The silver is stained light pink, shimmering in the light.

His thoughts cross the borders along the sea of his memories, full of faces he longs to forget, grimaces accentuated by the blood running along the edges of the shadow. Every person he has met ever since is covered in deep red just by a fateful meeting of his pitiful presence.

A world filled with much darkness that will trouble Jae until death and beyond, where his path transforms into his own shadow always trailing along his way. Where his shadow has once been a comforting presence that showed him that yes, he still exists within the cruel world that loved to look down at him, it is now a constant reminder of his sorrowful existence that loved to look down at the world beneath his feet.

Light flitters through the scarcely furnished room that the YoungK uses for customers to refresh; a floor-length mirror on the wall to ask for the most beautiful in the world, a desk with small cabins that keep little funny secrets within them and a window to see the world from a different side. Where on the one side is the street, loud and bright and filled with shadows lurking around, the other side harbors a much more beautiful sight.

A small patch of green amidst the gray of the city and that all thanks to the owner of the casino. Once Jae had asked him the question most people wonder about and Brian had looked at him, pretty as ever, smiling fondly and proudly, just to never give him any answer.

Privately, Jae likes to think that maybe the reason is staring him right in the face when he watches the small park through the window, yet all he can see is the awe in his own eyes. He sees a tree and a flower arrangement and all he can think about is a relaxing night in the park where he lies in the grass, reads a book and lets his body getting touched by the one and only man that always did it with such fondness.

It is late in the afternoon but early in the evening. The event will start in a few hours and Jae is already here to make sure that things work out. He sees it to himself to position Dowoon right at the door where he, the current manager of the establishment, will greet all the (important) guests for a lasting first impression. He talks to the bartender to serve only their bests (and for the first time ever declines a drink for himself because tonight Jae needs all his wits) and shows Sungjin all the good corners of the casino. He outright ignores every attempt of Brian to even look at him, in particular his tries of talking to him. Wonpil has promised him before that Dowoon will give Brian a short rundown of what will happen tonight (even though Jae is one hundred percent sure that Brian already knows from a certain someone else). Wonpil, for that matter, follows Jae like his own shadow to watch over him.

It doesn’t help him to not feel any less cautious. Not when Brian’s small gang is assembled in one place. Jisung is perched somewhere at a table to play with one of the dealers tonight. Felix is sitting at another and talks to—oh.

Jae turns around the main room to search for the one face he has to greet because – well, it would be rude and disrespectful otherwise. If Seungmin is here and currently talking to Felix, then that means that Jackson isn’t that afar. And if Jackson is somewhere here, then the head of his gang must have arrived as well.

If one wants to find Im Jaebeom, then you’ll have to watch out for one Park Sungjin—

And bingo. There he is.

This is the first time for months that Jae sees Im Jaebeom again. The differences of that man can be spotted immediately. The mullet is finally gone and replaced by a neat and carefully styled bob. His hair got long overall, but where most men would look awkward with it, Jaebeom makes it look good.

Jae briskly walks over to Jaebeom to greet him. He walks less briskly after he spots a wickedly smiling Jinyoung behind the man, and Jae hopes for his own sanity that Jinyoung is throwing this face at Wonpil and not him. Not tonight. Jae doesn’t need that.

Just on his way he notices someone else lurking around the room and staring at him. Jae rises an eyebrow at Chan who only shrugs his shoulders and then looks away – and okay, Chan is next on Jae’s list of talking with people. Right after Jaebeom. And Yugyeom. He should totally talk to Jeongguk’s best friend Yugyeom.

“Jaebeom-ssi, nice to see you again.” Jae bows lightly in front of him after Jaebeom does it first. His otherwise blank face lights up a bit, curling his eyes inwards. A movement much enhanced by the piercing underneath it. “Thank you for coming today.”

“No problem.” Jaebeom has this deep calming voice that soothes something within Jae. His whole presence is calming him. In all this darkness, being on top of the world, Jaebeom has somehow maintained some innocence to his figure. “I do it for my friend.”

Maybe that is the innocence of his.

Friendship in a world where ties are bound by malice, power and money. Always money. People are hungry and money decides who has power like a god. Along the path on their way up to reach the sun those two, Sungjin and Jaebeom, are still bound to each other by something they call friendship.

A beautiful way to be tied to someone who isn’t a shadow but a speckle of color in the sky, guiding you to a better place where stars are shining bright.

Jaebeom doesn’t reach out to Jae, doesn’t smile brightly, he just watches him carefully with the eyes of someone who harbors a deep soul within them. They are, in a way, intense. “When Sungjin-hyung told me about tonight, I was curious.” Something glimmers in Jaebeom’s eyes. It has him in a trance where Jae can’t bring himself to look away. “Good luck, Jaehyung-hyung. You will need it.”

Jae bows in gratitude and takes this as a dismissal. His sight glides from Jaebeom to Sungjin whose own gaze is locked on Jae. His eyes seem to hold the same gleam in them, just in a different way.

“Hello to you, too,” Jinyoung sneers at him when Jae brushes past him. _Not today, Jinyoung_ , Jae shakes his head, _not today_. Jae ignores him in favor of walking towards the single figure looming around the bar. Or maybe after a short stop as another person hangs around the table next to him and looks delighted at the tricks a random dealer shows him.

Jae pats Yugyeom on his shoulder and leans over to whisper into his ear. “Do you know if he is coming tonight?”

Yugyeom looks around the room until he finds the one person that matters (atop the stairs watching them because Jaebeom is a very intelligent man who notices things. Especially once Sungjin whispers secrets into his ears that are greeted with blind trust).

“You think he would let Taehyung come here by himself?”

Jae shrugs and looks away from the younger. The first guests are arriving. The important ones won’t come for a few hours.

“Just making sure. I’ve never met Taehyung before and Jeongguk doesn’t strike me as a funny fellow.”

Yugyeom snorts at that. He constantly whips his foot up and down. Interesting. “Jeongguk can be a real dork, believe me. Same goes for Taehyung but he can be professional as heck too. Good luck cracking that shell.”

Now he starts nibbling on his lips. Yugyeom is nervous, thoughtful. “What is it with you?”

Again, he throws a short glance to Jaebeom, then leans more toward Jae. “Did you tell Sungjin-hyung or Jaebeom-hyung about me and Jeongguk? I swear, he’s giving me that look every time I’m in his sight.”

Good.

“Aren’t you just paranoid?”

There are still people Jae can trust.

“No, I’m not,” Yugyeom insists. “It’s like as if he’s waiting for me to slip up. Or confess. It’s driving me crazy.”

Traitors are bound to get paranoid. Otherwise, they wake up in a pit of red, wondering how they could sink so deep and how they can get up to snatch a fresh breath of air.

“You’re just paranoid.”

And he’s right in doing so. How did Brian do that? Being so carefree and—and happy to go along his plan without a bad conscious?

Chan is still glancing at him. Chan who knows Brian for longer than Jae does. Chan who was involved in said plan. Chan who somehow got much more attractive to talk to than Yugyeom.

“If you excuse me, there’s something I have to—”

Jae doesn’t finish his sentence to leave Yugyeom. He just does. Traitors get what they deserve in the end because the light of the truth will always reach the ones not too deep in the pit. Jaebeom preserves some of that light with him.

And maybe Chan can bring him a silver of light. Maybe he can make him finally see.

Just when he has finally reached Chan, someone grabs his arm and drags him all over the room into a hallway not so hidden but still hidden by a plant. The hallway is dark, the only light is coming from the grand hall together with all the people’s chatter and laughter.

There are eyes looking up to him, intense and saddled with something deep. It’s too dark for Jae to explore more; the way Brian’s eyes seem black instead of their deep brown—

“Talk to me.” Brian pleads with a deep frown on his lips. The furrow between his brows make him look older and tired. He looks much more his age than he otherwise does. “Why did you change plans—”

“Does it matter?”

Push and pull. Brian pushes and where Jae should start pulling he pushes back instead. Their push-and-pull game is off-balanced. They are off-balanced. The equilibrium of their existence is tilted but to no one’s favors. Jae is falling and falling and Brian—

“Yes, of course! Of course, it matters.” His hands find the lapels of Jae’s jacket, fingers lined with many rings, all shining in different colors. Fingers with so many promises whispered into, all broken by the crushing reality that is theirs to live. “What you try to do—This is suicide.”

Brian’s right. This is suicide. “Wasn’t it you who told me this? The only way leaving this life is by death? Am I not doing this in a way?”

The way Brian looks up to him; eyes wide and brim with grief and sorrow, worry and fear-- there are so many emotions Jae isn’t used to dealing with when it comes to Younghyun. Younghyun doesn’t fear anything, not even death. Younghyun is a bastion of calm that drives Jae into madness, yet he can’t help himself but cling to him like a lifeline. Brian looks up to him and all Jae can see is Younghyun so broken. The intensity is dimmed but still strong in a different way than before.

“After tonight…” Jae whispers in a secret, leaning down to cup his cheek and graze his lips against cheek and ear. “There will be no Park Jaehyung anymore.” He presses his lips against the cheek, lingers there for longer than he intends to. He fears to see his eyes again and even more what he might find in them.

Younghyun is so pretty tonight. He wears all black like Jae, making his skin fair and delicate. The hat that has rested on bright red hair before now lies abandoned on the floor. Jae bends down to retrieve it and sets it carefully back to where it belongs. His fingers caress back a few lose strands of hair and flitter then down to the silver necklace, disappointed to feel cloth where warm skin should be on his throat, playing with the pendant.

“Jae—”

“I will miss you.” A confession that has long rested on Jae’s tongue. It tastes bitter and sweet at the same time. He slowly leans down to taste something much sweeter. It’s soft, it’s warm… it’s wet.

And then Jae leaves without a second glance back. Leaves the dimly lit hallway in a casino that feels much more like an abandoned alley where a bleeding boy can be found crying in the rain of Seoul.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? When Jae had followed Younghyun and clung to the thought of love, Jae found himself bleeding in the grieving rain of the city. Now that he finally has the strength to leave Younghyun behind and let go of the illusion that unyielding love is the answer to every problem, it is Younghyun who lies bleeding in a dark alley and watches the rain of the sky.

Is this how things should be?

(No, his heart whispers.)

Light reflects on the translucent glass. Clear blue liquid swirls back and forth within, again and again. Fingers grab a tad too tight, the hand trembles lightly. Lips set against the edge, the hand tilts. Blue liquid meets red flesh. It loses color, vanishes within the dark mouth. Webs of a net are drawn in black shadows on skin, just above the cheekbone, right under where eyes are closed. Blond hair curls around his forehead, shining like locks of angels.

The lamp above Chan dunks him with light to make him seem clear and yet so full of shadows. There are no wings, wide and bright, for him to carry on his back and Jae wonders if their real appearance is rotten and black with blood dripping from the clumped-up feathers.

Chan in no sense can be seen as an angel who serves to protect, not when he has fallen such a long way from heaven. Not when Jae believes in something different, something pure and innocent.

“Bang Chan.”

Chan flinches. His eyes hide nothing for Jae as for him fear is written behind a veil of—maybe loyalty?

“Hyung, thanks for coming. To me.” Chan chuckles nervously. The awkwardness claws against Jae’s chest as something that denies being ignored. “We—There is—You ignored me.”

Jae lets his gaze wander around the room. He hopes to catch any sign of Brian who should have long gotten away from the dim hallway. “Yes, I did. For good reasons.” Brian isn’t anywhere. Where could he be?

A hand lies itself on Jae’s arm. Chan looks up to him and his eyes plead with him. Vulnerable. “When I heard that you will—you know, what you will do tonight… There is something I have to tell you.”

The hand drags him into a corner where less people are pry to their words. The palms of the plants hide their tense faces. Jae tries to act indifferent, but his interest is piqued.

“You never listened to the whole plan,” Chan opens the conversation again. He explains further when Jae cocks his head. “Younghyun-hyung’s plan. You only know one part of it—”

“And I don’t want to hear the rest.” The topic’s old. They’ve been over that a hundred times. Jae at least is. His mind was filled with ideas and what-nots and what-ifs, trying to fill the blanks and reasoning with Brian. So, he guilt-tripped himself into stopping to think about that because Brian doesn’t deserve it. It won’t change a fact, no matter what. Especially not when Chan means to tell him the whole truth. “What Brian did was something that I can never ever excuse—”

“But you don’t listen, hyung. You are hurt, I get it! You were hurt by him again and again and again—”

“Who do you think you are that you can make assumption about what I feel?!”

“I don’t have to assume because you wear that pain like your armor! Your pain is like a high wall that no one can look over to see—to see you. And it will always hinder you from seeing the other side as well.” Chan looks broken and pleading. His expression resembles Brian’s so much. Someone who had seen the shore a long time ago and then drowned in the sea of their treason.

Jae doesn’t look much better. He is angry. This topic upsets him instantly. He is long over it. Closed this chapter in his life, oh why had Chan to come over and ruin that for him?

“This is the world we live in, _Chris_ ,” Jae spats. His hands tremble, his body shakes. “There is only so much we can bear to see before we crumble into irreparable shards, and yet we have to stand unyielding in front of this world because otherwise, we would be dead.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how this world works. I was born into it and have been fighting for my place my whole life long. You had it easy. You aren’t the only broken one here, so get your head out of your ass and face the goddamn truth.”

Unyielding. Chan is that nice and caring guy who looks like sunshine loves him the most. He is loyal to a default and most and foremost a good friend who never yields if the moment demands it. He fights for them until the bitter end.

Chan can be terrifying if he wants to. Can be cruel if he needs to. Someone who lives to dedicate his life to the important things in it.

There it is again.

A shimmer he has seen before. A certain innocence that survives in the darkness while being broken into thousand shards.

“Younghyun-hyung didn’t kill this idol. Neither of us did.” He holds up his phone to show a picture—a screenshot of a security camera footage. The first thing Jae notices is himself in the hallway. He is talking, animatedly so, to none other than Sammy. They stand in front of Brian’s room. Jae remembers it, clearly.

_I don’t exist in your world anymore._

Neither do. Not anymore.

It is just then that he notices the figure at the corner of the screen, lingering around inconspicuously. In their world, though, nothing is inconspicuous. “Who is—”

“Daesung.” Jae takes a sharp breath when the full force of the assassin’s name hits him. “Woosung was tailed by Daesung. He never had any chance in the first place.”

His eyes shake when he searches the picture for—he doesn’t know for what. Something that makes reality seem better than it actually is. “Are you sure?” He whispers when he can’t find anything. Is this another lie? Another game?

“I am. Believe me, hyung, we didn’t have anything to do with his death. It was totally against our plan!”

That plan again. They wanted to kill Jae, right? Or, scare him off or—Jae doesn’t know.

“I don’t—”

“Younghyun-hyung had it all laid out. Right on that day when you visited me, just before you’d found that idol in the church, Younghyun talked to me. He was so happy when he said that you’d do it. That you’d go with him.”

What is he talking about?

“Go to where?”

“He wanted to ask Sungjin if you can come with him. To America. And he would have approved because of the danger you were supposed to be in.”

Are those just lies? A last resort to make Jae pliant? To mock him?

“America?”

Chan nods, grasping Jae’s arms. “The deal with those guys overseas. You are the informant and you do the drug deals. Hyung wanted you to make the deal with them. And then, on your way back to Seoul – the flight would never have reached its destiny. A flight that you guys would never have boarded in the first place.”

“No, he didn’t—”

“He bought a house near Los Angeles for you to live in.”

“Why should he—”

“He had false identities. Made it possible for you to eventually visit your parents.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“Hyung. Jae. Younghyun-hyung did do all of that. I can prove it.”

Jae searches his face. Where are the lies? The twitch that gives it away? Why can he only see earnest honesty written all over it? He doesn’t want that. “How?”

“Hyung’s safe. You know the passcode—”

“I don’t.”

“The date you two got together. You know the one.”

The date they got together—

Is this true? Chan is a liar. Has he ever lied to Jae? He did. For Younghyun. Can Jae trust him? No.

Can he?

Waves break at the shore. The calmness of the surface is disrupted by small waves getting higher until they reach and break at the shore. Water fills his ears, muffles all noise except for those waves. It’s quite fascinating. His world is blurred and dark and yet he hears the quiet song of the ocean. A melody that moves deeply within his heart and bones.

Jae opens his eyes. Slowly. He isn’t underwater. No. The world is just that; a blur of things swimming together into that unclear picture he sees. His fingers shake too hard when he presses the buttons. Does he find the correct ones? It beeps and beeps but never opens.

“Open!” Jae hits against the safe and hurts his hands by the crash of flesh against metal. He trembles overall, no limb of his isn’t shaking. His lungs are incapable of taking a full breath and his eyes still won’t focus at all.

Someone talks to him. Calm and soothing. He touches him softly. Fingers that steady his arm, caressing his cheek. Again and again. He asks something until Jae finally understands.

“May,” Jae mutters, his own voice sounding foreign to him. “May sixteenth. The password--”

It beeps. The room spins. He suddenly holds papers in his hands. Many papers. They feel heavy and smooth, like—

“W-What—” His back hits a wall, he slides down. Papers flutter onto the floor, spreading away from him. His hands don’t stop shaking and his eyes try to decipher what is written on the papers left between his fingers. “What is—what is this?!”

“Hyung.” It sounds hollow. Soft. Like a ghost from the past whispering into his ears. He can’t hear it properly over the sound of crashing waves that his heart pumps into his ear. The papers rustle on the floor, fingers that aren't his take them from the floor. “Those are property purchase contracts for a house...”

Jae gasps for a breath. The address on the paper is foreign to him and yet so, so familiar. The way it is written, letters that aren’t hangul but Latin. A postcode of numbers that feel within reach.

“But Chan—” He gasps again for air, this time it turns into a pitiful sob. “Chan is lying. He is—supposed to be lying.” His head hits the wall behind him and lulls to the side. The last few papers clutter everywhere where Jae lets them go. “He is lying for—for Younghyun. He is a liar.”

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar.

Chan is a liar.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

All he does is lie to Jae. For Younghyun.

Liar.

“Hyung.”

Another body slides next to him. They touch from their shoulders down to their arms. It is warm.

“Wonpil.”

Wonpil lays his head atop of Jae’s. Nothing more. Nothing less. And then they sit together to stare against the far wall. Nothing less. Nothing more.

Just like Chan is a liar.

Nothing less.

Nothing—

~~~ _10 hours earlier_ ~~~

Breathe in. Breathe in and out and in and out and out—

Wait.

That’s not how you breathe—

Breathe in. Breathe in and out and out and out—

What the.

Jae stares darkly to the ceiling from where the music plays. He usually uses the rhythm of the song currently playing as a help for his breathing exercise, but the actual lyrics of the song confuse him. It’s not what he—

Whatever.

Jae is busy right now. Important business here, right? His hair sits perfect, his make-up is on-fleek, his clothes as if they were ironed just five minutes ago—

(“Hyung, stop nagging. Dowoon doesn’t work faster just because you’re cold.”

“But it’s freezing without my pants. Wonpil-aaaaaah, hurry up!”

“You’re such a baby.”)

And all of that just on time. He is just striding through the room to get to the entrance and ask Felix if any of his very important people are already here when right at that moment the one and only Kim Taehyung decides to make his entrance. And Taehyung looks more on-fleek than Jae would be on his own wedding.

His deep blue hair lets him stand-out amidst the many dark-haired Korean and even the slightly taller Jeongguk trailing behind him loses some of his handsomeness in the shadow of Taehyung. Taehyung wears nothing less than Gucci, a deep red suit that fits his figure perfectly.

The moment Taehyung spots Jae, his face lights up. Literally. His smile is boyish and makes him look years younger.

“You must be Park Jaehyung, right? Thank you for your invitation.” He bows respectfully in front of him, Jeongguk does him alike.

Jae nods and eyes Jeongguk warily. Their last meeting hadn’t started on good terms and ended in him—thankfully— not being killed. Something Jae much wants to repeat – without the rough start, of course.

“I’m glad that you could make it. I’m sure that Sungjin is somewhere around to—”

“Let’s not hurry, alright?” Taehyung kindly interrupts him. He bows his head shortly in apology before he nods towards the tables. “The night is long until our game and I wanted to go for a round anyway.”

“Do as you wish. I can show you around if you want me to?”

Taehyung shakes his head, lips till tugged up. “It’s alright. I’ll find my way around alone.” He lets his gaze wander around until it locks on one sight. It must be the top of the stairs where Sungjin and Jaebeom were standing last time Jae checked and yup—they are still there. “I hope everything goes as planned today. Namjoon-hyung is very excited about it.”

Jae licks over his lips and hides his hand behind his back, far out of sight from a warily watching Jeongguk. “I promise, everything will go according to the plan.”

There is suddenly deep murmur among the people, a quiet commotion. Jae searches the room to find the cause of such.

Their other guest has arrived, and he brings with him the probably most dangerous man of the country. Taehyung also turns to the newcomer when he walks bristly towards them, all of them putting on smiles that never could have been any faker than now.

“Welcome to the YoungK, Seunghyun-ssi. Daesung-ssi.” Jae properly bows at the same time as Taehyung and Jeongguk while all other greetings are exchanged.

Seunghyun looks more subdued than Taehyung with his black hair lightly curling on his forehead and a shiny pristine black suit snuggling against his body. Same goes to Daesung—his face is half obscured by his long fringe and his figure resembles more of a shadow as he wears nothing else than black.

Where Taehyung and Jeongguk looked boyish and young, Seunghyun and Daesung have that air of maturity and wisdom around them. Two generations of mobster clash against each other and Jae feels awkward between the accessing stares of the enemies. A silent conversation plays out, hidden by pleasantries about—well, Jae isn’t listening and can’t tell what they are talking about. Probably same shit as always.

“I hope that we will have a fun game tonight, Seunghyun-ssi.” Yup, just like Jae thought. His eyebrow quirks up in curiosity at Taehyung’s light threatening voice. A brave move, that’s for sure. Taehyung then turns to Jae, bowing again. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and do my round. Just call me when the game starts.”

Jeongguk lingers behind a few seconds before he follows Taehyung (and gifts Yugyeom on the other side of the casino a short nod mixed with a bright grin). That leaves Jae alone with Seunghyun and, welp, Daesung.

“That boy doesn’t look more bark than bite,” Seunghyun suddenly muses while he watches Taehyung’s retreating form.

Jae shrugs in response. “He doesn’t bite that much. But I’ve heard that you shouldn’t underestimate him. He isn’t one of Bangtan’s best for nothing.”

“Maybe.” Seunghyun straightens his lapels and starts walking away, presumably making his own round. “But it’s not him who I fear will bite tonight – I know people who bark much but won’t bite and I’m one hundred percent sure that once they do… it’s going to hurt more than anything else.”

“I prefer skipping stones.” Seunghyun stops in his way to throw Jae a glance over his shoulders. He cocks his head in a question when he doesn’t understand. “Just to make sure that people won’t bite.”

“And how, Park Jaehyung, can I accomplish that?”

Jae pouts his lips in thought until they purse into a dark smile. “Make them owe you somehow. People live by certain standards and codecs that they abide to. Find out what they are and make use of it.”

“That’s… a very useful tip. Thank you.” And with that Seunghyun turns back around to go his own way while Jae watches his back, viewing the small waves stirring.

~~~ _9 hours earlier_ ~~~

The casino is brimmed with people. There are more glasses than men wandering through the crowds. Dices are thrown, balls are rolling in circles, cards flutter in the hands of hungry gamers. Chip after chip is thrown, swiped, put on the table, gleaming in the light pouring from the chandeliers.

Jae watches the scene from his safe spot on the balcony of the first floor. His gaze wanders from Jisung swapping cards from his sleeves to Felix throwing himself at an at least twenty years older woman, and Chan walking amongst the people to keep an eye on possible threads. He sees Dowoon waiting with a bobbing foot for his drinks at the bar and Jackson chattering endlessly next to him. Yugyeom’s shrill laugh pierces through the excited murmurs of people while his hand clutches on Jeongguk’s sleeve who regards his friend with a somewhat fond smile. Taehyung tries hard not to seem interested in their talk, but Jae notices his wavering attention to the game when he loses a match again, and his eyes always wander back to his younger companion. Seunghyun is also watching Taehyung with a close eye while Daesung tries to hide the man as much as his frame can.

The hour ticks close to the start of the fun part of the evening. He looks for Wonpil who stands at the end of the stairwell with Jinyoung attached to his arm and they both laugh with a flute in their hands. And if Jinyoung’s here, Jaebeom can’t be that afar—

“I like this balcony. Not many people loiter around here, and you can see everyone.”

Jae watches Jaebeom approaching from the side with slow but deliberate movements. His eyes droop sleepily, the smallest smile on his lips.

“As much as everyone can see you,” Jae eventually responds and leans forward on the railing. He can’t see the leader anymore but then again, Jaebeom is someone he can trust to not stab him in the back. For that, they aren’t close and not distant enough. Plus, Jae still enjoys his protection by Sungjin, so that’s that.

“So far, neither of my man have spotted any intruder.” Their eyes meet when Jae turns his head. “But that doesn’t concern you much, right?”

“Honestly? No.” His fingers reach out to go through his hair when he remembers the amount of work that Jamie and Wonpil put in to make them look decent enough.

“Nervous?”

Jae chuckles. Maybe even nervously. “I’m allowed to be, right? Sungjin told you everything, you said? Then you know that this ain’t an easy feast.”

Jaebeom hums in agreement. His fingers intertwine above the railing and he leans forward just like Jae, lets his gaze sweep over the room. “I've known Sungjin since we were children. We both fought our way from the street to up here just so we can survive. If it weren’t for Park Jinyoung-sunbaenim, maybe we wouldn’t be here. Maybe we would be your everyday life coworker in an office and then walk home to our families at night. Maybe not. Who knows?”

The way Jaebeom’s eyes glint in the light, Jae can see it again. The shine of a man’s innocence who only does what he has to, just to preserve that wonderful gift that is companionship and family. It knocks the breath out of Jae’s lungs to see something that fierce.

“But then again, I wouldn’t have met the boys.” Jaebeom chuckles when he gets lost in memories. There is fondness along innocence drawn in the universe of his eyes. “And I love each one of them. They are special. So, what if Yugyeom is befriending one of Seoul’s cruelest killers? He is an individual that I trust to make the right decisions. As long as he is happy and doesn’t endanger our family… I’m content.”

“That’s a nice story—”

“Sungjin’s the same.” Jae halts at the intensity of this stare. His heart jumps when his mind wanders to someone else whose stare isn’t anything but intense. “Sungjin, as cold as he sometimes seems to be, values his family as his greatest treasure. Back then, we split apart when we realized that we have the same plans and values but no place to manifest them into reality together. Yet, we still find each other again and respect what the other has built.” Jaebeom places his hand on Jae’s shoulder. The intensity lessens much where his smile broadens further. “Don’t worry how tonight will end. You have a place within this family, no matter how much you don’t want it.”

And aren’t those the most comforting words that Jae has ever heard in his life? To have a place where he belongs to – even if he tries to run away from it? Yes, Jae doesn’t want to be in it. He wants to be as far away as he can get because this isn’t the sort of life that he can lead. He can’t survive. Jae is too weak for that.

Albeit, here he is after all and finds comfort in the simple words of Jaebeom, whom Jae isn’t even close to.

“Thanks,” Jae croaks after a few uncomfortable silent seconds. Jaebeom welcomes him with a soft pat against his back before he leaves him to the comfort of solitude on that balcony. He sees Wonpil already up half of the stairwell and Jae knows—it’s time.

~~~

It’s only when they all follow Jae into that stuffy elevator at the end of the dim hallway that Jae realizes – Brian is pressing directly into him. Chest against his back, Jae feels the fingers against his waist to steady him (Jae is much sure that Brian only wants to touch him, that pisser). Jae doesn’t have much space to evade Brian in the elevator. Plus, Wonpil isn’t near him since he retreated to somewhere else where he can keep a better eye on Jae. Such, it is ultimately Brian who is responsible for his immediate safety. And Brian has always believed in the concept of close proximity to the thing he protects that coincidentally has always been Jae.

It feels like breathing in too much air freshener when the elevator doors open to the lowest floor in the casino where the most prestigious games occur (a.k.a. that is where they scam people for their money and possibly kill them afterwards. Only today killing doesn’t appear on his agenda because otherwise, Jae can go kill himself just as much).

The light is dim to hide the ugliness of the hallway and, moreover, the movement of special cameras. Why the room must be at the end of the hallway will forever remain a mystery for Jae as the walk there makes him more nervous with every step they take.

(Thank you, Brian, for designing it like that.)

Jae opens the doors and lets his guest enter first, all while evading the searching gaze of Brian until he eventually gives up and walks in before Jae.

The room is classy in its design. The walls are painted in whatever color Jae can’t discern in the dim light, but the floor is a nice dark wood with red carpet. The only lamp in the room hangs above a round table specifically designed for a night like theirs, six chairs surrounding it.

His guests and Brian sit down in some random chair, always pairing up with their partner, and Jae stares at his own seat that is right next to Brian before he follows suit. The dealer for their night shows off the two different decks before he starts shuffling and explaining the rules curtly. A young boy with a distinguish look, mullet, braided strands and a lot of piercings lining along his ears. The boy glances shortly to Jae before he turns his back to the table for some semblance of privacy among the players. Who are talking to each other. Jae should tune in. Quickly.

“I heard you are the best of your people,” Seunghyun somehow compliments Taehyung, to which Jeongguk beams proudly like a proud boyfriend.

Taehyung, however, doesn’t seem to be that much impressed. He deigns a fake smile on his lips, a small tilt of his right corner, and shrugs as if trying to be humble but not so much. He folds his hands over the table, his many rings shining in the light. “I had the best teacher.”

Seunghyun cocks his eyebrow. “Who?”

“Kim Namjoon, of course.”

Jae bites back from snorting at the comment. He sees from where Taehyung comes from – Namjoon does have that charming poker face speaking for himself – but then again, Namjoon doesn’t look like as if he pulls cards out of his sleeves to impress a few bad people. No, he looks more like the guy who pulls guns out of his sleeve while charming people’s pants off.

The metallic zip of a lighter makes five heads whip to the source, the sixth head who currently lights up a cigarette between his lips. Brian even goes as far as offering the others a fig for themselves and Jae is tempted to take him on that offer. His stress level luckily hasn’t peaked by now and Jae is content enough to let it stay like that. And if Brian is smoking one of those now, then it means he is stressed as well.

The dealer suddenly turns back to the round with a loud shuffle of his cards, smiling to the tensed players as if nothing happened so far.

“Shall we start?”

The first round is just for getting used to playing. Not a lot of chips are thrown into the middle and Jae doesn’t detect a lot of ticks or tells. Or any of them. Hitmen in general tend to be hard to read since their faces are blank by nature. With Seunghyun, a weekly casual player, and Taehyung, a professional, the bars are set high. At least Brian is an open book for Jae.

In between the third and fourth round (with Taehyung, Seunghyun and Daesung winning those), Seunghyun starts to watch the dealer with heightened interest. He even asks for a name.

“Hongjoong, sir,” the dealer says lightly.

What worries Jae more is the light crunching of skin between Taehyung’s eyes as if he sniffles something suspicious. “Do we know each other?”

The dealer, Hongjoong, shakes his head without a wavering smile. “I just have a face that a lot of people have.”

Not really, Jae thinks, but no one calls him out on it.

Another twenty minutes of playing passes by and the bets are higher with each game. The tension rises as if everyone is expecting Jae to jump off his chair and reveal his grand plan (or, at least, raise the stakes even higher), but Jae is content for now. At this point, their wins are equally distributed where neither side can complain about loss or glee. Jae himself has only won one round so far and that by sheer luck.

Or so.

“How did someone like you get into business, Taehyung-ssi?” Seunghyun suddenly throws into the round while drawing a card. He snorts at the confused glance Taehyung answers with. “You are young. You look naïve. But you certainly know what you are doing.

“I looked into your business. The Army, your precious club, is loved by so many people all over the world. The money you make on a daily basis is a number that my label wishes it could earn in a week. Namjoon has found a good businessman with you. That’s a compliment for a former idol.”

“Taehyungie-hyung worked very hard to be where he is—”

“What Jeonggukie wants to say is that my initial career wasn’t what I wanted in life. I found something with Namjoon-hyung that I didn’t want to give up, and the rest’s history.”

Interesting.

The way Jeongguk glares at Seunghyun while forgetting the cards in his hands and Taehyung sneakily patting against Jeongguk’s thigh so fondly, Jae wonders what that something could be that Taehyung had found with Namjoon-hyung. It is interesting because this right there makes them vulnerable, albeit Jae doesn’t like it. It just reminds him so much of himself.

“What about you, Seunghyun-ssi?”

Seunghyun leans back in his chair and takes his win of the round. His fingers stroke along the edge of one chip, his eyes never leaving the unwavering stare of Taehyung.

“My best friend asked me if I would follow him to hell. So, I did. He wanted to ascend the throne, so I helped. And when he saw the end of his reign, I left without an objection. And same goes for Daesung.”

A heartbreaking origin story, someone should make a movie out of it. Jae would watch it and rate it ten out of ten, would never watch again.

Seunghyun tells it without hesitation, without a doubt that that what he did was the one and only correct thing anyone could do in that situation. And Jae has that thought that maybe everyone would have in his shoes; been there, done that, regret it.

“And you, Jaehyung-ssi? Younghyun-ssi?”

Smoke fills the air and settles heavily between them. The smell burns in Jae’s nose as he is acutely aware of that certain brand that Brian always carries with him. Ashes fall onto the floor because no one cares, the floor has seen much worse. So much worse. Because what else could happen in a cellar room with no window or light?

Brian purses his lips around the stick, inhaling deeply, and Jae watches the steady burn like in trance. His lips are dry and chipped, the lower one bitten until blood was drawn. An unusual sight since Brian likes to take care of his lips to make them look as plush as possible, fuller than they seem to be.

Lips that tend to seduce Jae into watching him, latching onto it to suck all the words and noises out of him. Even now all Jae wishes to do is to lick with his tongue over them and get a taste of it. Do they taste like smoke and expensive alcohol or is it less dull than he remembers it to be?

Brian presses the fig against the ashtray on the table. His hair hides his face when he looks down to his cards and eventually answers, “I was born into this life and as I’m not dead yet, I’m here.”

They all take it with a simple nod or hum where Jae would have huffed in the past, not accepting such simple fact as truth. Present Jae knows the reality.

The only way to leave this life is by dying.

He suddenly feels four pair of eyes latching onto him. Jae simply clears his throat, shuffling around the words in his mind before he tastes them on his tongue. “I found something important and when the boss asked me, I followed him. Simple like that.”

It earns him a simple smile from Taehyung who immediately catches on to the echo in Jae’s word. Seunghyun, on the other side, doesn’t seem to be that much impressed.

“Please place your bets,” Hongjoong instructs them silent minutes later after a victory for Brian while he starts giving out a new round of cards.

The whole room stops breathing in a second when Taehyung suddenly slides in a massive amount of chips into the middle even before he has seen his hand.

Seunghyun broadly grins at the sum of chips. “That’s over five million won, Taehyung,” he laughs.

Taehyung cocks his head with a smirk. “Life is boring without a bit of risk, isn’t it? And I promised a very high bet tonight,” he then spoke to Jae playfully.

“That you did.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Seunghyun mutters and then goes in. His finger swipes over his lips shortly before he starts eyeing the other.

Daesung pulls out of the game and lays down his hand. Brian immediately pushes the same amount of chips into the middle. His lip twitches barely as if he wants to bite on it again. Jae looks into his own cards and sees how bad it is. He needs a lot of luck to make something out of a nine and a seven. He stares at his cards and his thoughts stray away. His sleeve is pressing into his arm, his breathing is normal. He doesn’t swallow. He doesn’t move a muscle. His face is blank.

His hand pushes his chips into the middle. He takes another card. An ace. Bad luck.

Jae lets his gaze wander to Jeongguk to his left. He sees fingers against his right thigh. The fingers feel for something beneath the cloth as if something should be there. Seunghyun wouldn’t pick up on it. Daesung would think of it as something different. Yet, it is painfully obvious for Jae.

As if they are testing him.

The middle of the table suddenly got much more interesting if it means he doesn’t have to look at Jeongguk anymore who—

“I’m out.”

\--throws his cards in front of him with no one being wiser and somehow, Jae gets it.

The round doesn’t take long. Taehyung raises the stakes, Seunghyun goes with him, and Brian—Brian leans his head slightly towards Jae. Two fingers and his thumb hold the cards in his hand. His left thumb sweeps over his left middle and pointer.

Oh.

This right here throws Jae back to a time far in the past when Brian had taught him how he communicated with his father during games. A set of simple movements and ways of holding the cards, telling his partner how good his hand is. Two fingers on the cards, middle and pointer; Brian is sure he can win the round. The tilt of his head, a question.

_What should he do?_

Brian can win the round and then he asks Jae. Because Jae is the master of the house tonight. The puppeteer who strings along the gamblers and make them dance to his tune.

Jae looks away. Looks at Jeongguk and lets his gaze wander until Seunghyun. Seunghyun who watches him intently. His fingers sweep along his lower lip. His stare doesn’t swerve.

“I’m out,” Brian suddenly announces and places the hand in front of him. Seconds later, Jae breaks the eye contact to look at Brian, who leans back in his chair and lights another cigarette.

“Give me one of them.”

Finally, Brian turns to him and looks him in the eye. There is a question written that Jae ignores. He holds his hand out, waiting, while going with the bet even though he really has no good hand.

The taste of the cigarette on his tongue is—well, it tastes bad. Cigarettes taste bad, Jae has never liked them, but it always reminds him of… Brian, okay?

“Show your hands,” Hongjoong instructs them after Taehyung went with them. Taehyung’s smile widens once he realizes that his twenty-one-hand won him twenty million this round. Seunghyun, however, wears a beam that is gleefully terrifying.

Especially with that glint in his eyes.

Fingers suddenly caress over his thigh to get his attention. They are soft and warm, nearly not noticeable with how careful they are if it wasn’t for Jae to be used to constantly waiting for such a touch. What he finds is Brian frowning at him and his bared cards, the miserable seventeen points that they got him.

Jae only shrugs and tugs his leg away from the fingers. He shivers when the ghost of it wanders across it and his heart longs for much more.

“How about a final round?” Taehyung suddenly proposes when he takes the chips to his place. “Going all in?”

And that is Jae’s cues. Raising the bets higher and higher until Taehyung suggests an all-in, just for Jae to jump in and up the price a tad higher. Everyone on the table waits for it. The tension rises between the players while breaths are held, all except for Hongjoong who shuffles the blue deck with the playful heart-pattern printed on its back. Jae’s sleeve chafes against his skin with a heavy reminder.

“How about—” Jae licks over his lips and searches his opponents’ eyes for anything. Sees Taehyung happily smiling, Jeongguk throwing knives with his eyes, Seunghyun contemplating with his finger against his lips, Daesung absentmindedly tapping his finger in a rhythm and Brian—Brian leans into his palm and fiddles with the end of his jacket. He is the only one not watching Jae. It strikes Jae as very unusual – very un- _Brian_. Brian always watches him, especially when it matters the most.

So lost in thought, he flinches lightly when Jeongguk clears his throat because Jae hasn’t finished his sentence. Jae scrambles his thoughts together to remember what he wanted to say, plays the words out in his mind before he settles with, “How about we play about something more than money?”

It only comes to him now how ridiculous this it. They all play surprised as if they aren’t in on the plan in one way or another. Jae has hoped for more grace or anything. Something that makes this less—well, ridiculous.

Hongjoong starts to deal the cards and throws Jae a look. Just a short poignant look. Another cue.

“And that may be what?” Taehyung asks as if he is entertaining Jae’s funny suggestion. Seunghyun snorts at the tone of the younger.

Jae takes a look into his cards before he places them down to intertwine the fingers above them. “I know what I want. I know what you guys want. Then lets finally bet on it.” He pushes all his chips into the middle and then Brian throws in a piece of paper. “This is all of our money and this here is a property transfer agreement of the wonderful establishment that we are currently in.” Jae dangles the paper on front of their faces.

Taehyung whistles loudly. His boyish grin shines even brighter. “That’s bold. I’m in.” And then he himself places a piece of paper into the middle, atop of Brian’s. “The Army and all of our money.”

Their eyes wander to Seunghyun who inhales deeply and frowns at the smell in the air. Smoke stenches all of their clothes and finds its way into their nostrils. It clings there as a reminder of the situation they are in—hazy and smoked. Everyone here plays by their own rules.

It is only with a deep frown that Seunghyun places a contract of his own into the middle while Daesung pushes the chips. “My label,” Seunghyun explains curtly.

Silence lays itself around them until Hongjoong claps loudly and lets Jeongguk open the round.

They are gamblers. Jae is painfully aware that they all have experience in deceiving people and fool them out of their money. Gamble is what connects them all in this room. What concerns Jae the most—they all operate with partners.

It starts with small glances to the players’ faces. Everyone searches the other for any signs. Sweat slowly makes its way down their skin. Jeongguk takes a card. Taehyung doesn’t.

Their faces are blank. Their fingers don’t twitch. Their feet are touching. They move, first only toes, then all down to the heel. It is inconspicuous, yet it tells Jae so much more. Seunghyun’s finger caresses over his lips. He does it all the same. Jae isn’t sure anymore if this is his tell.

This is exhausting.

Jae just has to wait for something to happen. It has to happen. Right, soon, like—

“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit.” Seunghyun suddenly throws his hand onto the table and reveals a pretty good hand – a blackjack. His nostrils twitch in anger. His frown is deeper than Jae has ever seen before. “We all know that this guy there has us all roped in with one promise or another.” He nods towards Jae and talks directly to Taehyung whose smile is suddenly wiped from his face. “The dealer is in on their little gamble. It would’ve been less suspicious if he hadn’t thrown him glances, like, all the time. It irked me even more when I saw I had the best hand that I could. You wouldn’t do such a mistake.”

Seunghyun moves to stand up and closes the buttons of his jacket. “And here you went through all the trouble of hiding that card in your sleeve.” Jae looks guilty away when he shakes his arm to get the card out of his sleeve, the back printed in a beautiful heart pattern. “If this game continues, then we’ll play under my conditions, capice?”

What kind of mobster is Seunghyun that he says capice? Are they suddenly in Italy and waiting for the godfather?

It is then that Taehyung stands from his seat, his smile back again. “Only if I can propose something as well, Seunghyun-ssi?” When Seunghyun nods half-heartedly, Taehyung claps his hand together. “Let’s make it more about luck than skill, alright? Our partners here can go and search for a third party who isn’t involved in this. He will deal us one round – with no option of taking another card or not. The bet stays as it is. The lucky man who has the best hand right at the beginning will be the winner of the game. Does that sound good?”

It is for the first time that Jae sees Seunghyun throwing Taehyung a genuine smile. Something akin to pride. “I was thinking about the same.” He motions for Daesung to walk towards the door. “And make sure that he knows what will happen if he even thinks about cheating, right?”

The door closes behind Daesung and Jeongguk without another word. Jae feels two pairs of eyes latching onto him like leeches. He sighs with a defeated smile on his lips.

“Should have seen that coming,” Jae singsongs, then takes out another piece of paper for them to see. “Let me apologize for this, alright? This here should interest both of you. It might cause a few conflicts with EXO since we stole it from under their nose, but technically I’m the owner.”

The paper flatters onto the table and reveals the name of a certain club that everyone here expected. Jae is content with the lack of their reactions. This ridiculous act is finally finished, and they all are playing with open cards now.

However, Brian sits there as a silent viewer. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t watch Jae, he only—is just that. Leaning on the table, watching the smoke flowing into the air once he breathes it out. It’s the fourth fig this evening.

“You think that the club will lure me out, right?” Seunghyun sits down in his chair and crosses his legs. He brims with power and confidence. “But after all the time, you still haven’t realized that this club isn’t worth anything to us. You killed our brother because of a plan that the idol’s boss has and then you have the audacity to trick me. You are the kind of people who bark much but once they bite, it hurts so much. But in this case, it will hurt you the most.”

“What are you trying to say?” Jae cocks his head. He sees Taehyung’s lip twitching as if he tries to keep in a smile.

“Someone told me once that if I want to prevent people from biting, I should own them. And that’s what I want in this round.” His finger presses against the tabletop. “Whoever wins here will own all of us players. He will own our money, our most prized possession, our loyalty. We all live by the same codec. We are gamblers and what we bet are words sworn to god. Who disobeys loses his partner. At least I didn’t make the mistake and brought the person I am loyal to with me.”

Jae takes a deep breath. Brian still hasn’t looked up or shown any interest. Just sits there and lives his life. As if he couldn’t be burdened by the heavy words Seunghyun hammered into them. Such a—

“I’m in.”

Jae’s head whips up at the sudden agreement of Taehyung. His smile turns from boyish to something downright dangerous. He still looks meticulous handsome as if being ripped out of a fashion magazine and yet, his eyes have such darkness drawn into them.

And Jae realizes with a hammering heart that this is it. Everything plays out in front of his eye like a film. Fast and quick and with no coherent meaning. Something he saw enough times to know how it pans out.

As such, he can’t do anything except nodding and agreeing to the heavy bet that is laid on the table.

He doesn’t dare to look up from his hands when the door behind him opens. When a new voice greets them all hesitantly, as if they found a boy on the street who is none the wiser. He doesn’t look up when he hears the short explanation of Taehyung to Jeongguk what is on the line, when the cards are shuffled and placed in front of them.

His mind is filled with the images and voices of that one evening where he had sat in a chair and waited long until the clock struck midnight, and none other than the owner of the apartment entered the room. Sungjin wasn’t surprised seeing him there, all he did was listening to Jae’s detailed explanation of how much he had fucked up. Sungjin wasn’t mad, didn’t try to kick him out, didn’t try to kill him.

Sungjin had smiled. Sadly. And then continued to tilt Jae’s world on its axis.

“Show your hands,” Seunghyun demanded gruffly and one by one they show their cards with Seunghyun’s grin broadening with every pair that doesn’t reach his twenty points.

Jae is the last. “Gentlemen.” He nods before he places the cards on the table and sees what he has. His fingers prevent curious gazes from seeing what he has.

This here is where everything takes a turn to a point that no one is expecting.

“Can I ask a question first?”

All eyes are glued to his hand covering his cards in anticipation. Every face fall when Jae delays the revelation if Seunghyun wins or not.

“Go ahead,” Taehyung urges him to. He, for the first time that night, shows something nervous in his face as it isn’t hidden by the upward tug of his lips.

Jae licks his lips and looks again to Brian who even now isn’t watching him. He feels the caress of fingers ghosting over his legs instead. Fingers that aren’t there when he looks down because Jae only imagines it. Brian doesn’t watch him. Doesn’t acknowledge him.

So, Jae only mumbles a short ‘Doesn’t matter’ before he takes his hand off his cards.

And suddenly, chaos ensues.

_It is September 7 th, 10 pm. Only six hours left._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger, wuh!
> 
> Next week - Track 15: Is it me who's running? Is it me or my heart?
> 
> Btw, again, find me on Twitter under [@ordernchaos2](https://twitter.com/ordernchaos2) and curiouscat [@ordernchaos2](https://curiouscat.me/ordernchaos2)! Scream, write or ask me anything about any topic!


	15. Track 15: Is it me who's running? Is it me or my heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title by Day6 - Emergency
> 
> The cursive paragraphs are a continuation of the first scene - in case you're wondering what that is

_Days before September 7 th_

The chair was stiff and not very often used. Jae would start nagging about how hard such a soft looking chair could be and demand for a new seat to sit in, but right now this was such an unimportant thought for what Jae had planned to do.

Sungjin sat on the couch opposite of him. A small table divided the two men from each other. It’s a safety measure for Jae to have enough time in case he had to take his weapon and shoot.

The tension radiated off of Jae in waves while Sungjin smiled patiently at him.

“What do you want to talk about, hyung?”

When in private, Sungjin spoke to him quite endearingly. He respected that Jae is older than him and otherwise liked to spoil him a bit. Especially with food. All of that as long as Jae kept his distance, didn’t dare to touch him or dirty his things – neither of which Jae was a fan of. They had this mutual understanding of each other’s personal bubble that Wonpil didn’t have and Dowoon nor Brian didn’t care much about.

It gave Jae a bit of courage to do what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he blinked before he deliberately licked his dry lips.

“I—I fucked up. Bad.” Sungjin only blinked at him, still smiling. His legs crossed and he leaned forward to him. It was encouraging. “I was selfish and only had in mind what was best for me, so I went and did something—bad?” Jae winced when he realized how vague and bad it sounded. Sungjin ticked his eyebrow up and still didn’t say a word. Unnerving. “Maybe I should start at the beginning?”

“That would help, yes.”

They chuckled a bit at Jae’s anxious nod. Jae’s finger tapped against the armrest. He suddenly longed for a cigarette or something stronger to keep him focused. Sadly, Wonpil had taken everything with him when he had left last night.

It was now or never, so Jae better spoke up.

“I want to be out. And with ‘out’ I mean, I want to get completely out. Out of this life because c’mon, let’s face it: I’m not a mobster. Maybe this job is perfect for me but killing and hurting people? That isn’t what I can and want to do.”

“So I noticed.” Sungjin nodded. His smile slipped into a frown. “But why haven’t you told me anything before?”

“Because—” Jae was a chicken. Scared of what he unleashed within Sungjin when he told him the truth. Even though Sungjin played nice and pampered him, there was this wall between them that differentiated Sungjin from how he viewed Wonpil or Dowoon. Sungjin was his boss. Sungjin expected something from him.

“Because I didn’t want to fail you. I owe you so much. I owe you my life. How could I go to you and demand it back because I don’t want it anymore?”

It came down to this, didn’t it? Jae fell into a web of things he understood much too late and then pleaded Sungjin on his knees to help him stay alive. Sungjin shot people without a blink when they ran after Jae. He smiled warmly at him even when they couldn’t talk to each other coherently. Their blanks had been filled by half-hearted attempts of Brian translating things they didn’t get. And along this way, Jae had devoted his life to the feet of this man and gave him so much back that couldn’t ever reach the debts Jae had.

Jae wasn’t a man with much pride. He left pride behind when he met Brian and exchanged it for something foolish like love. It had taken him years to reclaim his pride and put it into something tangible; into the sight of Seoul that he loved to watch, but always with the paining realization that he had lost something much more important.

He put loyalty into his pride. Loyalty that he devoted to Sungjin (but Sungjin never held between his hands because somehow Brian always snatched it away out of his grasp. Jae could only watch helplessly when it happened again and again until his heart laid in crumbles to his feet and no such thing as love could bloom in this darkness anymore).

Pride and loyalty. Jae invested all of his morals into this life only to realize that he couldn’t fully commit. He could act, he could try, but his heart was never in it. The things he prided himself with, the things he wanted to stay loyal to, they all felt wrong on so many levels that Jae sunk deeper and deeper into a darkness until the urge to breathe got too much.

And Jae, once again, had decided to swap loyalty and pride with love. Only this time, love was hollow and only served as a replacement for a rather different drive that could be described as self-preservation. Jae was losing his mind bit by bit and he couldn’t do that anymore with all the shards of his heart sanding through his fingers.

Sungjin’s face crumbled into something confused and sad. “I never said I own your life. Your life is yours and only yours to live. There is nothing to claim back from me.”

Jae shook his head. His fingers nervously kneaded themselves. “That’s not true. You expect much from me and, most of all, loyalty. That isn’t—I can’t give you that. Not anymore.”

“Why do you think I ever had it?”

“Because we are family—we are family,” Jae said breathlessly. The words stumbled out of him for the first time ever.

He never acknowledged them as family. Never went as far as claiming them to be something more than friends from work. But that’s what they were; people who found each other and took care of.

Throughout the last years he always had someone who had his back. He had Wonpil sleeping next to him every night and caressing his back when night terrors shook through his body. He had Dowoon admiring him like a younger brother and teasing him when his mood dropped from bad to worse. He even had Brian who had always looked out for him in his own way and challenged Jae to become a better version of himself. And then, he had Sungjin who took him out to his favorite ramyun restaurant and fed him with so much food because Jae was scrawny and lean as hell.

“I’m glad that you know that,” Sungjin happily said, but then turned serious when he continued. “But Jae-hyung, I was never under any illusion to have your loyalty. From any of you.” He sighed deeply and massaged his temple lightly while Jae watched him like a puppy. “Look, tell me what you did and then we’ll see how bad it is.”

And so, Jae did.

He started at how he reached out for Kim Namjoon after a thorough investigation about him. He listed off all of Namjoon’s interests and obsessions, how he worked and what he loved, and, most of all, what he wanted the most. How it was linked to G-Dragon. And how everything spiraled down from killing Seunghyun to Brian sabotaging their business.

Not once did Sungjin look angered or mad or on the verge of killing; no, he looked rather sad and lost in thought when Jae finished with what went down between Brian and him in Ilsan and the repercussion of their fall-out.

“So, I have not only one loose dog but two running around and risking lives of my men to… what? Get you out of the picture?” Sungjin cradled his chin between his fingers and fixed Jae with a lost look. “And what exactly brings you here? Why are you telling me this? You’re aware that this is like you pleading me for killing you, right?”

Jae swallowed hard because Sungjin’s right.

“I—I have a peace offer. I want to remedy what I’ve done to you—”

“And still be here?” Sungjin looks warily and motions to the window. “It’s suicide for you to stay in our world. It kills you one way or another. If you stay here, I won’t stop pushing you to do your job. I rely on you. I need your two hundred percent and not maybe eighty if Wonpil is with you.”

“I know. I know.” Jae braced himself. This was pleading for getting killed, Sungjin’s right. “What I want from you is… to let me out. I want out of business. I will go far away from here and you will never hear a word from me again.” His face fell forward into his chest. His breath felt stolen from him. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m on the brink of madness—I already made my peace with dying. Sungjin, please, give me one last chance and I will remedy for everything and then you will never have to see me again.”

“You say this as if I should be happy about you leaving. I’m not and never will be.”

The way Sungjin’s eyes glowed in the scarce light, it was filled with honesty and something Jae had always admired in him. A certain light that shimmered in the darkness for those who had been wandering around lost on their path, unable to find back until the messiah appeared in front of them.

Jae smiled sheepishly, touched at the prospect that Sungjin cared more than Jae had ever credited him for. “I cause more problems than I bring solutions, though.”

“Maybe. But nobody’s perfect, right? We’re all human after all. Just—view this as something like being lost in the wrong profession. People change and move on to different jobs because that’s how life is.”

There was a reason why this man in front of him had been worshipped by Wonpil at one point. Wonpil always seemed to be naïve in a way where he clung to people albeit he knew them only for hours.

However, there was no one better at judging people’s most inner core than Wonpil because Wonpil killed people for money. The hitman had seen the worst of the worst of people, had listened to their pleads and prayers, to their innermost demons and sins, no matter how good or bad they were. Wonpil didn’t differentiate between his victims. Didn’t sympathized, didn’t wonder, didn’t judge.

And yet, so Wonpil had told him, when he had met Sungjin on a graveyard on an early winter morning, cold murder turned into something with purpose as it served to receive approval from the one man who rescued Wonpil from the person he feared the most.

(“You are scared of someone?” Jae had asked surprised. His fingers skimmed over the soft skin of Wonpil’s back, watching the goosebumps erupt.

“We all are scared of someone. Even I,” Wonpil mumbled into Jae’s chest where he nuzzled deeper into like a touch-starved cat.

“And who is it that you are scared of?”

A chaste kiss against his chest. “Myself.” Another kiss against his collarbones. “The things I am able to do.” A soft nibble along his jawline. “The darkness that is luring within me.”

A harsh bite into the side of his throat.)

Jae contemplated for a few seconds and watched Sungjin intently. He searched for something that gave anything away that Sungjin wasn’t—that— “How are you okay with all of this? What about that stupid saying? You leave this world by dying?”

Sungjin only shrugged. “Leaving the family is regarded as treason, but let’s be honest: I consider you a friend, even a brother. I’ve seen you struggle a lot and nothing I ever did helped you in any way – even worse, I drove you off a cliff in hopes that maybe you adapt any quicker to our world. I had an inkling that someone within our ranks tried to bully you out, but then again, I was blind enough to not see you foolishly going behind my back and ask fucking Kim Namjoon for help.”

Sungjin shook his head and crossed his arms. His eyes found the confused ones of Jae. “There is only one way this here will play out. You die. You’re right, no one walks out of this life without repercussions. You did what you had to and made a lot of enemies on the way. Powerful enemies even. G-Dragon will chase you around the world if he has to. But dead people, those can’t die anymore, right?

“If you leave now, you are dead. If you stay, you are dead. But I know you, hyung, and if you want something, you’ll get it. You want to remedy what you did? Tell me how. You want to leave? Explain me your plan. You have one chance and I’m in. Make this count.”

Jae was blown away by this. He had hoped for this outcome, but he hadn’t anticipated that it would actually happen. He thought Sungjin would pop a vein and scream his lungs out. Maybe even chase Jae out of the house with a broom.

 _Give him the benefit of the doubt_ , Wonpil had whispered into his ear. Jae had shrugged it off just to be ignorant and keep painting Sungjin as the bad guy in the story.

Something akin to excitement suddenly flowed through his veins. His limbs started to feel jittery. He leaned forward to Sungjin with a smile playing around his lips. Jae was quite proud of what his brain had come up with the last few hours, a masterpiece, really.

“We’ll kill two birds with one stone,” Jae introduced his plan happily.

“How?” Sungjin also leaned forward in his seat, infected by the excitement protruded by Jae.

“The original plan? Namjoon wants Seunghyun’s label and the Sun, just to spite G-Dragon. He wants to show the world that Namjoon is better than Jiyoung will ever be since the label was YG’s old pride and glory.”

“Is this about the big three mob bosses of Seoul?” Sungjin threw in with an amused chuckle.

Jae nodded. “I think so? Namjoon is a self-made man who already sits on the throne but lusts for more. Taking over one of the old bosses’ imperium is impressive in itself. That is only the first step in Namjoon’s big plan, what follows is the destruction of EXO and—well, you and Jaebeom.”

“So, for Namjoon it was just a call of fate that you of all people offered him your service.”

“Yup,” Jae popped the ‘p’. “But by then, I would have been gone, so I didn’t care that much about it.” The threatening way Sungjin regarded him with made Jae chuckle. “Just a joke, of course. I already adopted countermeasures for that case.”

“The police officer?”

Jae grinned brightly. “What Namjoon wanted from me is luring Seunghyun into the YoungK and play a game with them. You know, the usual play. Raise the stakes, let Taehyung win the money and make Seunghyun bet the label.”

“Ah, now I get why you were adamant about keeping the club. You needed it as a bet. But as it stands now, Jiyoung has enough interest in getting the YoungK, right?”

“Nope.” Jae shook his head, frowning. “Unfortunately, Jiyoung is after Younghyun and my head. I fear that he might not even be interested in the Sun.”

“You might?”

“One hundred percent sure.” Sungjin leaned back in his chair, looking floored. “But it’s okay because our target isn’t Jiyoung. It’s Seunghyun.”

“And we all know that Seunghyun is very much loyal to his childhood friend.”

That he was. Jae, however, knew better. Had thought a lot about it. “Isn’t that what makes it interesting? Seunghyun will be much interested in not only getting the Sun but the Army, too. Because he can flaunt with it in front of Jiyoung. Don’t offer people what they have once owned, give them something new and better. It doesn’t matter what Jiyong wants – it’s about what Seunghyun wants.”

“Okay, you’ll make them bet their clubs because both will probably think that they win, right?” Jae nodded. Sungjin leaned more forward and fixated Jae in his stare. “What game will you actually be playing?”

And now they were really talking. Jae leaned back in his seat, crossed his legs and gripped the armrests casually. The beam on his face was bright.

“Both parties think that they will get something from me – but honestly? They’ll doubt me even before they set a foot into the establishment. And they won’t come alone. That’d be suicide. They bring their own trusted men that are capable of killing. Daesung is back in the city and Jeongguk is much infatuated with Taehyung.

“I don’t worry much about Taehyung. He will play along as he likes and see to it that I won’t fuck up. Jeongguk had already threatened me and I very much like to be alive. Seunghyun, however, needs to be the driving force of the game.”

“You won’t be doing anything at all, right?” Slowly but steadily Sungjin seemed to get it.

“Nope, I won’t contribute to the game at all. I will lose because I’m not the best player—”

Sungjin suddenly snorts loudly. “That’s a lie. You are better than Younghyun and he doesn’t even know it. I’ve seen you play. You swap cards to lose and no one ever suspects you. You are good at doing the unexpected expected. That’s why I wanted you to join us.”

Oh.

So, someone had noticed. It felt good to finally be admired for something Jae was keeping up for years just for the sole purpose of mocking Younghyun in silence.

(Or maybe Jae did that for Younghyun to keep the last thing of his job Jae isn’t better at. He doesn’t want to reduce it to solely killing people.)

“Anyways,” Jae continued, ignoring Sungjin’s little observation. “Since I will not contribute to the game, I’ll let Taehyung and Seunghyun do it. Taehyung will eventually bet the Army and Seunghyun his label—but then, his suspicions must peak.”

“Because he already is suspicious of the whole set-up, right?”

Jae nodded, again. “Yup. I want him to feel like he has the upper hand. The dealer will be chosen by me beforehand. Someone who is trained and privy to what is about to go down. That dealer will throw me looks and glances, not really suspicious but still not subtle enough – Seunghyun should catch on it. And now imagine what will happen if he gets a blackjack as his hand.”

Sungjin grinned at him. “He will lose his shit.”

“I really hope so. He will call me out on my shit and make his own rules. But he is in a place where he can’t set up anything beforehand, not with Brian and Taehyung at the table. So, he will rely on pure luck – and his cheating skills.”

“You think he wants to play the one hand round?”

“Probably. But I hope he will raise the stakes even higher.”

“With what?”

Jae pursed his lips and let his gaze wander through the books on the shelves. His eyes stopped where he could read the title of an old book, one that was oddly familiar.

“I will talk to him before. Make him realize that it doesn’t matter to get his things back. He needs the people. We all are mobsters; we live by a codec. And what is laid on the table will be followed through, no matter the consequences.”

A sharp breath cuts through the silence. “You want all of you to bet your loyalty? Isn’t that dangerous? What if you lose?”

Jae shook his head slowly. His lips quirked upwards. “I won’t. Because the new dealer he will search for? Just a set-up. Daesung and Jeongguk will threaten him so their team wins. And our new dealer will serve cards so that Seunghyun thinks he’s won… but in the end—” Jae grinned. Sungjin did the same.

Jae never failed to impress after all.

~~~

It was a long way to get to this exact point. The path was full of stones. Mountains were climbed, valleys discovered, but the oceans never crossed. The sea is far and wide and not even a lonely island there for him to rest.

The waves are calm. Light reflects on the dark surface. Even the shallowest parts don’t reveal their insides. Black holes open where the deep end lurks for lost souls.

Wetness clung on Jae’s legs when he had walked further and further. The horizon never came near nor were the stars within reach. Instead, the ocean’s arms tugged him deeper into the hole where he lost all breath and vision. Only red tainted the black, ghosting around him as his everlasting companion.

Tonight, though, tonight Jae will open his eyes for the first time in years. Eyes that have long been closed in fear of red, longing to see for hues of blues and greens. His arm reaches up to touch the surface that finally feels within reach. His heart jumps in between his ribs in excitement. His lungs aches for the first breath of freedom.

Not long and finally, Jae will be free.

_September 7 th, 10 pm. Only six hours left._

~~~

Taehyung cocks his head at Jae’s short dismissal. His smile has long vanished for an upset frown when he had seen the lack of one point for a win. He must have been so sure that he will win. His only chance left is—

Jae warily eyes the other players. His hand blocks the sight of his numbers. Daesung’s own hand is worryingly near his thigh and so is Jeongguk’s. The moment he reveals his card, Jae will be a goner if Brian doesn’t start giving a fuck about what will happen.

He glances into the darkness of the room, hopefully toward the camera’s vicinity. A small sign for Wonpil. Things are about to go to shit.

“If you ask me, I would trade loyalty with debt.”

Seunghyun raises his eyebrow at Jae’s cocky remark. His finger still swipes over his lips. With every second more the motion gets more aggressive and impatient. “Show us your hand,” he grunts eventually.

“No, think about it. It would be so much nicer for you and me if we traded. Because after all—” Jae halts dramatically and reveals his cards. “--I’m gone in only six hours.”

It only takes a second but so much happens at once. The moment when the other players realize what happens, guns are drawn and targeted at each other. Seunghyun and Daesung hold their guns toward Jae’s head while Jeongguk and Taehyung favor Jae and aim at Seunghyun and Daesung respectively. Even Brian has finally moved and serves as a wall between Jae and the guns.

On the table lies the king and spade of ace in one clean line.

_“And our new dealer will serve cards so that Seunghyun thinks he’s won… but in the end—” Jae grinned. Sungjin did the same. “—I’ll be the winner.”_

Seunghyun grits his teeth in frustration and realizes very harshly that he got played. “You mother— You are a goddamn liar, Park Jaehyung. You manipulated your cards—”

This is an insult to his skills. Jae pushes Brian to the side to get a clear view of the other. His face loses his smile and all fun, instead blankness takes over to mirror the numbness that spreads quickly within his bones. It only takes one movement to get another card out of his sleeve and he sets it down next to the table.

“You underestimate me, Seunghyun-ssi. I’m much better than simple card tricks.”

Daesung releases the safety of his gun with a loud click, his eyes narrow. Jeongguk follows with a second weapon held toward Daesung’s head.

“You’re so dead, Park Jae—”

This time, Taehyung falls into his word. “No offense, Seunghyun-ssi, but you bet your loyalty. You both did. It would be against your codec to go and kill the man you’re indebted to.”

Seunghyun barks an ugly laugh. “What about you, Kim Taehyung? You and your lackey lost as much as I did.”

“Jae-hyung and Namjoon-hyung have a deal. The game has ended other than I anticipated, but we finally do have ownership over your label.” Taehyung’s lips quirk up like they did before.

It falls quickly again when laughter bubbles from Jae’s chest and fills the emptiness of the room. It’s the cliched villain finally unmasked scene, and Jae loves it as it somehow feels freeing. So, so fucking freeing.

There is nothing better than seeing his plan working out.

“I think what you forget, Taehyung—” Seunghyun says slowly with bitterness in his voice. “—is that Park Jaehyung doesn’t play by our rules. He shits on things like loyalty.”

_“What about your deal with Namjoon? Taehyung will kill you on the spot if he only suspects you doing your own thing,” Sungjin mused rather amused._

_Jae smiled in answer. “Plans changed, right? If I win, they’ll be indebted to me. We both know how much people like Taehyung value their debts.”_

_“So, you just hope that Seunghyun and Taehyung obey to you?” Sungjin sounded very skeptically. And he was right. Loyalty meant nothing in their lives. They wouldn’t owe Jae a thing just because they lost in a game._

_“Remember the dealers?” he asked instead. Sungjin nodded. “Well, they’ll be a huge surprise. They’ll take care of my Taehyung problem, at least.”_

This marks the second time that Jae sees the end of Jeongguk’s weapon aimed at him. Taehyung’s face is lined with anger and disbelief. Jeongguk looks downright murderous.

“You made a deal with hyung. You swore on your life that you will help us. Jeongguk could put a bullet through your head, if I wanted him to. Explain to me now, what is going on here?” Taehyung spits rather harshly, yet Jae doesn’t react at all. It makes Taehyung card through his hair, sighing heavily. “If that’s how you want it. Jeongguk, shoot him. We have what we want here.” He makes to grab for the papers on the table.

“You bet your loyalty, now you’re indebted to me. Isn’t that what you told Seunghyun before?” A life where loyalty doesn’t mean anything. Jae isn’t alone with that. Jae isn’t the only one who gives a shit on things like that. Because loyalty is only for those who deserve it. “Would Namjoon want you to kill me?”

The hand halts the same time Daesung changes his target from Jae to Taehyung while Jae asks a question that seems silly at first.

“Namjoon-hyung has killed for even less.”

“And you?” Jae cocks his head in a challenge. A silly question, indeed, but the answer—

“What is this? Simon says? Yes, I would kill you. In fact, that’s what I’m about to do here.”

The answer is what Jae needs. Words have an effect. They cause ripples in a calm sea, causing waves to hit the shore. It’s a beautiful play of nature. Jae likes skipping stones, especially if it’s to his own favor.

_“What about the dealers?” Sungjin asked._

Because suddenly, the two already forgotten dealer charge forward and press Taehyung against the table, a gun aimed to his head, while the other kicks into Jeongguk’s leg to make him lose his footing. Jeongguk reacts quickly and punches the guy into the face while Taehyung struggles in Hongjoong’s arms. It isn’t easy for the other dealer to overpower Jeongguk, but when Brian suddenly whacks his gun against Jeongguk’s head, the hitman falls into the dealer’s arms with a short groan.

“Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jeongguk, you are both arrested for attempted murder and illegal gambling,” Hongjoong rattles off in one breath while they start cuffing them both.

_“I saw them once in a bar, dancing on the tables and celebrating their win. A new police group, but hey, they exposed a whole drug den, so that’s impressive.” Jae chuckled to himself. “They have experience in working underground. Especially Kim Hongjoong and Choi San. Both are good at the art of gambling.”_

“The fucking police?” Taehyung huffs under his breath and starts laughing disbelievingly where he is shoved into the chair. San, the other police officer, sets carefully a blacked-out Jeongguk into the other chair and clicks the handcuffs into place.

“I’ve been working with the police the whole time, even though I only changed plans yesterday or so,” Jae explains slowly. “They have a lot of questions for you.”

“This whole thing has been rigged from the beginning.” Seunghyun chuckles under his breath. He finally lowers his weapon, a relief for Jae. “You got us played good.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

_“Okay, so you’ll have Taehyung arrested. What about Seunghyun? As long as he doesn’t confess, which he won’t because Taehyung will already do this mistake, you can’t arrest him.”_

This is where things get—complicated? Maybe? Jae can’t think of a better word. His following move was already set in stone even before he sat down with Sungjin. Maybe the idea was born through all the hurt and disappointment that he felt about the betrayal. But it was the only solution that he could come up with.

Jae locks eyes with Seunghyun. There is confusion. Anger. Darkness in his eyes.

Seunghyun is loyal to his old friend. There is no one that can top Jiyong. Not even a stupid card game bet. Jae is fully aware of that.

His heart feels heavy at what he is about to do. He takes a heavy sigh to let the numbness invade his veins and take over his whole body. He has to let go of those inklings of feelings that always surface when he is near him. When Brian touches him. Brian who is detached the whole day long and still defends Jae when he has to.

Maybe this idea was born out of hatred. But it doesn’t make it any less cruel.

“Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.”

_“What?” Sungjin’s face wrinkled in confusion._

_“Jiyong told me this. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.”_

Seunghyun almost smiles at the familiar phrase. Almost. “What about it?”

_“I’m indebted to G-Dragon. I killed his brother,” Jae reminded Sungjin._

_“You did. And I’m still angry about it. But what does it matter?”_

Jae licks his lips. Swallows. “It matters. You lost the game. You’re indebted to me, no matter how you turn it.”

“My debts have nothing to do with your debts to my friend.” Seunghyun glares at him. He is stoic. Proud. Loyal.

_“They have morals. Debt is a debt and I want to make an offer to Seunghyun that he can’t reject.” Jae carded his hand through his locks, biting on his lower lip. This was risky. “I trade my life for that of Seunghyun and Daesung. Give him back that label and the club. Then, we’re even. In a way.”_

_Sungjin shook his head. Leaned forward on his hands. “Jiyong would still hunt you. No matter where you go. You fooled him, you fooled his people—”_

“—you killed our brother.” Seunghyun laughs in disbelief. Shakes his head. “That's not enough to remedy for what your plan has caused.”

“I know,” Jae bows his head—

 _“I know.” His chest pained at how hard his_ _heart palpitated against his chest. His fingers trembled and his eyes glazed over. “And that’s the reason why I have a last favor for you to ask. Sungjin, I need—” His breath stopped. He couldn’t say it. The words were stuck in his throat._

_“What, hyung, what do you want?”_

“There is something that I can give to you. To make G-Dragon and me even. Remember? Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth?” Jae looks up and—

Seunghyun looks taken aback. There must be something in Jae’s expression that he can’t control enough. That gives away of what he’s about to do. “There is nothing that is worth as much as our brother. Except—” Seunghyun stops. He realizes.

Everyone realizes.

“You can have him.” Jae breathes with his eyes closed. His hand grabs for his arm and shoves him forward. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t make a sound. As if he already accepted his fate.

“I’ll give you Younghyun.”

_Sungjin stared at him baffled. The clock ticked and seconds passed, but Sungjin hadn’t blinked nor breathed. Jae hid his face between his hands in fear and disgust—fear of the reaction that Sungjin would eventually show and disgust for his own mind coming up with this idea._

_“Are you—Is this—Are you for real?” Sungjin whispered flustered. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” His yell echoed through the room. Jae flinched at the hard tone in his voice. The pure anger laced in there, lashing out at him. “Younghyun is part of our family and you want to throw him under the bus because you idiot are fucking hurt about what he did to you?! Something he did out of love?!”_

_“Woah, no, don’t say that!” And suddenly, Jae and Sungjin stood nose to nose, fletching teeth with their shoulders tensed. “That fucker didn’t do shit out of love. He wanted me dead and sabotaged your business for that. Hell, he nearly killed Dowoon in the process! You would be a fool to ignore that! What kind of mob-boss are you if you don’t punish traitors?!”_

_“You aren’t any better!” Jae flinched back at the sheer anger spat at him. “You are even more of a traitor than Younghyun! You sold your soul to Namjoon and then have the audacity to come back to me, crawling on your knees because you realized how fucked up your plan is! I should punish_ you _and not_ him _!” Sungjin grabbed him at the collar and pulled Jae closer to him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t do this right now, you fucking bastard!”_

_“Because—” Jae choked on his words when tears glazed over his eyes. “Because— I—I can get you the Army,” he tried weakly. Sungjin pushed him away, sighing deeply._

_“How low did you sink that you trade life with money?” There is disappointment drawn on his face, in his posture, in everything. “I thought you were better than us, Jae.”_

_Jae shook his head. The tears pooled in his eyes. “That’s not—I don’t—” He slumped down on his knees, buried his head between his hands._

_Brian was the key that had once opened the door to this world. Brian was the key that opened said door again to finally let Jae leave this prison that had once been promised as his paradise. One step in and he fell deep down into the ocean, yet realizing that his chase for the one thing he desires the most was drowning in the sins he had to commit._

_Blindness followed love like a shadow born in the sun – only that once the night ends, all that stays was the darkness that made love seem to be such a pitiful thing. There was no love to be found in the rain at night when the streets of Seoul become Jae’s solitude along with the realization that maybe love had never been around at all._

_That maybe the person that he had once known as Brian had much more shadows hidden beneath the shallow surface. Where once Jae was eager to discover the many faces of Kang Younghyun, he now feared the darkness of the deep end. There was no shadow to be drowned, only darkness to be swallowed by. And Jae had never learned how to escape the spell that captivated his every sense and feeling that longed for Younghyun so much._

_In the end, it all came down to Kang Younghyun. Brian. That cool guitarist from the bar, who had that deep and soothing voice. A dorky college boy whose mission was to annoy Jae first and love him second. A young man who aspired dreams that were far out of reach for both of them, but not as far as the stars above their skies, hidden by the whispers of the night. A dangerous casino owner who killed people without thinking twice._

_Jae’s very own femme fatale in a way._

_Caught in his attraction, Jae threw everything that he claimed to be into the wind, only to end up with shards between his hands that were the memories of an innocence lost in twisted moralities._

_“Hyung.”_

_The hand on his shoulder was warm, the touch soft. Jae looked up to see Sungjin’s deep sorrow through blurry eyes._

_“It’s time to let go. We all make mistakes in our lives. And that’s okay – because there will always be someone to forgive you.”_

“You are one wicked man, Park Jaehyung.”

Jae jumps when Seunghyun’s sudden loud laughter rips him out of his thought. He throws a quick glance at Brian’s bored face, then swerves his gaze to Taehyung, who glares at him from his seat at the table.

“You first proceed to take everything from us and then you give me one of your men? You give me Kang Younghyun out of free will?” Seunghyun takes a step towards Jae. “Why? What is going on in that head of yours?”

People like Seunghyun will never understand people like Jae. Those who are blind with loyalty paint their paths in deep reds and don’t look back to the sea of rotten corpses. Those are people who look down at Jae and only see something weak and breakable.

But something that was once broken cannot break any further.

Just like this, Jae juts out his chin and meets Seunghyun’s glare with one of his own. Maybe there is some wetness that clings to his eyes. Maybe they have the same intensity that Jaebeom possesses; whatever it may be, it makes Seunghyun reel back in surprise when Jae fletches his teeth.

“Take him or leave it. I don’t need him anymore.” And just for further dramatic purpose, Jae presses a paper into Seunghyun’s chest.

The contract for his label only flutters onto the floor. Seunghyun doesn’t give it any attention where his gaze is fixed at Jae until he eventually sighs.

“I have to talk to the boss first before I can let you off the hook. Give me a few days—”

“Four hours.”

“What?”

Jae cocks his head. “You have four hours. I want to hear Jiyong himself say the words. Maybe then you can have the Sun back.”

Laughter ripples through the air. Seunghyun’s serious face gradually melts into amusement with a cocky smile plastered on his lips. “Maybe I should be more cautious of barking people, Park Jaehyung. We’ll see us then in four hours again.”

Seunghyun struts pass him with his chin held high while Daesung follows him, right after he collects the contract on the floor and grabs Brian at the arm. Jae doesn’t dare to watch Brian leaving, not with how hard his heart pushes against his chest. He probably has a heart attack at how much it pains him.

It only takes seconds until they are gone, but for Jae it feels like agonizing minutes. Every step further away from Brian feels like a piece of him left behind. He feels like falling down to his knees, pressing his head between his legs and screaming in pain if it weren’t for the audience in here.

A grunt suddenly echoes in the room as Jeongguk slowly wakes up again.

“I’m guessing your boss is in on it?”

The question never reaches his mind. He feels numb. The worst kind of numb. It is quiet in his mind, just before the storm will rage. He is scared of the storm. The ocean becomes a dangerous place if the storm fights with it. There will be no light to guide him up to the surface and waves will only push him deeper and deeper.

Skipping stones cause the surface to break. Jae hasn’t anticipated the storm that followed.

“Yes, he is.”

That isn’t Jae’s mouth uttering those words. Jae is quite sure that he hasn’t said anything since he is in no capacity to even say a thing.

A soft touch against his elbow. Jae relaxes in an instant.

Wonpil smiles warmly at him before he turns coldly toward their prisoners. A gun gleams in his other hand. A shadow falls between them when Sungjin suddenly stands between Jae and Taehyung.

Taehyung scoffs at Sungjin’s appearance. He no longer looks amused nor boyish. All gone is the charming youngster, leaving behind a man who knows when it’s over.

“You give your best man away just like that?” Taehyung asks menacingly even.

Best men, well, this has Jae nearly in a fit of laughter, except that Jae doesn’t feel like laughing right now. Or doing anything for that matter. He only watches carefully how Sungjin straightens his shoulders to rise to his full length, his chin lightly protruded in a way that it reminds Jae very much of Jaebeom.

“What does it matter to you what I do with my people?”

It doesn’t. It doesn’t even matter to Jae anymore. He is done. Thoroughly. All he wants to do is go out and get some fresh air so that his lungs stop feeling like imploding. His chest squeezes hard along with his head throbbing painfully. This headache develops quickly into something rather annoying.

“You’ve taken my club from me.” Taehyung juts his own chin out. Something vulnerable flashes in his eyes. “It’s only reasonable that I care about the new owner. Someone who deals with his people in such disrespectful manner is a disgrace for the Army.”

Blood rushes through his ear. The scraping noise gets louder and higher with every second. It rings through his mind, constricting his chest even further. His fingers start trembling. Is it cold in here?

_Hyung?_

Jae can’t discern whether the voice spoke to him directly or if it is a product of his mind. It sounded timid and unsure, as if destined only for his ears. The same way Younghyun had spoken to him when he sat on the bathroom floor, rocking his body back and forth to stop that full body shaking.

Waves crash against the coast.

“You judge a book by its cover. Even without knowing the full story, you make assumptions and call us a disgrace. This doesn’t make you any better than me, Kim Taehyung, this makes you ignorant.”

Ignorant.

The word echoes like a lingering melody played in the wide halls of a church and Jae latches onto it like spoken by god himself.

_Younghyun-hyung didn’t kill this idol._

Ignorant.

Jae is ignorant. Has been all along.

It crumbles between his fingers, like sand rushing through, turning into water that will never be caught by Jae. He swims through it, ignorant of all the darkness surrounding him, drowning, and he wants—he wants—

Jae gasps loudly, his voice breaking through it, and the warm hand on his elbow suddenly turns into a tight grab on his arm. That hand should pull him. Pull him up and out of the water. He wants to reach the surface and finally—

“Breathe. In. Out.”

This isn’t—how should Jae be able to breathe when water has filled his lungs for years? There is no space for air where darkness has already consumed him. There is no color where light can’t reach.

His back suddenly hits a wall. His head the floor. What is happening?

When has he lost his grip on reality?

The hand cards through his hair, tugging his head cautiously onto a lap. But why? Who? Who is talking to him so calmly? A melodious voice, as dangerous as that of a siren, luring him out onto the ocean. Jae has once heard such a voice. In a bar in the city of angels. A man with such beautiful blond hair and even prettier eyes.

Is that the secret of Younghyun’s beauty?

The way he looks like an angel, no matter how time changes him? Always smiling, even glowing right at Jae. His eyes smile with him and Jae always wants to lay the world to his feet.

And what did he do?

Jae gave him into the hands of murderer.

A nauseous feeling clutches against his stomach. There is no space in his chest anymore with how tight it’s squeezed together. He can’t breathe. His heart throbs painfully. Sweat runs down his face—

Like blood of Younghyun in the hands of murderer. He can see it in his mind. Such pretty lips cut open and bleeding. His nose cracked. His hair tugged into different directions. And his eyes beaten until they turn blue and violet.

For so long Jae has longed for the sight of Brian laying bleeding on the street, just like he had done to Jae; yet the sole image of this makes Jae retching onto the floor.

A pair of feet rush into his blurred line of vision.

“What the hell is going on here?” Someone speaks with disgust—

The hand is still cradling his head carefully. Hushed words distort into mechanic sounds, echoing off the wall, haunting Jae’s throbbing head. The soft touch becomes too much. His skin is scorching hot against the warm tips of fingers. He scrambles away from the touch as if burnt despite of the shower of coldness that runs down his back. His hand slips on something from the floor, a burning stench reaches his nostrils. His face nearly collided into the wetness if not for the hand still holding him.

 _Breathe_.

He can’t.

_In. And out._

He can’t. He’ll die if he breathes in. Water will rush into his lungs and kill him slowly from inside.

_Just breathe. Slowly._

It’s too much. Where his heart should pound hard against his ribs, he feels hollow. Where his lungs should collapse, he feels a burning ache. Where his eyes should perceive the wonders of colors, he only sees darkness.

Drowning in water feels much like falling. Waves that are your wings let you glide along the tides, down and down into a pit of bottomless darkness. Those who fly high and yearn for too much will learn that the sun can never be touched without being burned to ashes.

Jae yearns for standing high up over the city and here he is, drowning deep down below in his illusions, darkness, blindness.

Ignorance.

This is what he gets for falling. He had seen the pit. Knew what was coming. He still did it. He came, he saw, he—lost.

_Follow my lead._

The hand presses against his chest. Lets go. Presses again. A rhythm.

_In. Out._

Jae gasps. Whimpers at the burning sensation in his chest. He breathes in. And out. Slowly but surely he matches the pace of the hand. The relief he feels when his head slowly clears and the darkness in front of his eyes takes on forms and colors.

It is confusion that he perceives first. The room is brightly lit and decorated quite lovely. Plants, frames on the wall, carpet—stained with vomit. Sweat drops from his temple and the scorching heat dims down to something more bearable.

Jae falls back into the chest of someone whose hand is pushing his hair out of his face and whose lips are still whispering instructions on how to breathe. His eyes slowly trail up the pair of feet in front of him to a man wearing a nice but not very expensive suit under a trench coat and of course—Jae lives a cliched k-drama life because why else would the police inspector wear a trench coat just for the sake of it?

He would snort at the appearance of Eric if he hadn’t such problems breathing correctly. The anxiety subdues into a simmering pain lurking behind his ribs where it has long made himself a home.

“How are you feeling?”

The warm hand embraces his shaking fingers softly to keep them warm, slowly so, carefully. How else should it be than if not that? Jae would smile if he could, instead he nuzzles the back of his head deeper into the chest and enjoys the sweet caresses through his hair.

His throat hurts and his voice sounds raspy when he uses it again, it feels like talking after a long night of terror. “I’m okay… I guess.”

It is then that reality slowly drips into his conscious. Jae realizes that he is, in fact, not in the basement anymore. No Taehyung nor Sungjin but Eric in front of him.

“What happened?” Jae asks ruefully.

“That’s what I want to know, too,” Eric, unhelpfully, adds coldly, though his voice is laced with something akin to worry.

“You had a panic attack.” The hand stills when a face leans over to watch Jae’s. Wonpil smiles lightly at him, his eyes much tired. “Just the usual.”

Jae frowns. Panic attacks are his usual, yes, but this felt like something more than that. He hasn’t seen it coming at all and even now that it’s too late, he can’t grasp the fact that he’s just had one again. This is so much worse than everything else. Losing his shit in front of his enemy and then losing it in front of his ally – it’s embarrassing the least.

“The usual?” Eric asks flustered. “This was terrifying. You were hyperventilating and—”

“Not helpful!” Wonpil spits at him with a glare that shuts Eric effectively up. He then turns back to Jae, looking soft and worried again. “The police officers took Taehyung and Jeongguk into one of the rooms downstairs and watch over them until things are over. Sungjin-hyung is taking care of the rest of them and shouts instructions to the police force. Jaebeom-hyung is still here to help Dowoonie keeping things in place. Everything’s going as planned.”

At least that works fine. Jae is relieved that no one died yet. He hopes. He really hopes that. And for good measure, he shakes his head to get rid of those haunting thoughts that keep pestering him into another set of panic attacks (multiples, yes, because Jae’s conscious has obviously decided to work flat out in exact this moment (which he should be happy about since he felt kind of troubled that he was getting over killing someone so quickly) and giving Brian away into the hands of murderers isn’t the best weight on it).

Jae sighs deeply before he looks around the office – Brian’s office. “What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight.”

So, he’s still in time. His gaze strays not that far off, though, when it stops at the police officer hovering awkwardly in the door. “What is he doing here?” Jae nods with his chin towards him.

Wonpil shrugs his shoulders against his head. “No idea. He saw me when I tugged you up here and followed us.”

“I wanted to check in with you for a last time,” Eric follows up with an explanation, not standing in the door anymore. “If you still want to go through with… you know.”

Well, he would be dumb if he stopped now. His plan passed the point of return far ago. Too many sacrifices have been made. All for the greater good.

“Of course, we do,” Wonpil answers for Jae instead, something that Eric doesn’t appreciate that much.

As for Jae, he shuffles over to where the papers are still strewn over the floor and picks them up. His conversation with Chan still lingers in his mind with the papers as proof in his hand. Which makes him wonder—what else will he find in here?

“You want out?” Jae roams through the still open safe behind the desk, flittering over papers and pages of numbers and things that doesn’t interest him the slightest. It’s all business and contracts and lot of things that Jae doesn’t understand much of. That is until something catches his eye.

“No, I’m still in. I asked if you want out. If this operation fails, it’s your asses that’ll bleed and not mine.” If Jae had paid any attention to the undertone in Eric’s voice, he would have detected the worry in it. Alas, he isn’t paying any attention to the conversation.

“Then all things are fine,” he mumbles into his chest where his chin is pressed into as he reads thoroughly through the mountains of paragraphs filling the white canvas.

“What is this, hyung?”

This is— unexpected. Jae doesn’t understand. Not at all. He knows that Brian was good in college back then. Had a talent of handling numbers and business. He more often than not proved that he is competent in investments and getting the best out of deals. Where Jae scores by seeing through people Brian makes up with intricate business plans that seem dumb in the beginning but so much more profitable in the end.

That’s why Sungjin lets him handle all the money. For the whole mob. Hell, he still is Jae’s accountant and Jae hates his guts most of the time.

(Sometimes, Jae confuses hate with love.)

(No, really, he isn’t dumb enough to confuse both of them.)

(He’s only ignorant.)

So, he does the thing is the best at and throws the safe close with the paper securely sitting in his pocket, smiling at Wonpil without a worry.

“Nothing, Wonpil.” He then turns to Eric who looks more lost in the room than before. Jae finally takes pity on him. “It’s after midnight, right? Do me a favor and wait with the next step until four, alright?”

“Four what?”

Jae wills his lips to quirk up in a smile that probably ends up looking like a grimace. “Four a.m.”

~~~

_“Isn’t that the problem though, Sungjin? We can’t always forgive everything. We’ll drown in our own darkness if we betray our own self like that.”_

~~~

A moment to take a fresh breather. The night is still young with the clock passing the one o’clock mark. There would be the moon shining bright high on the sky if not for the clouds wandering over the speckle of yellow on the black canvas. There are no stars and nothing else to see up there, not when rain starts falling gently.

Not much find its way onto the ground. Trees are shielding the earth from being soaked where flowers eagerly await the first drops of the sky. Their leaves rustle in the wind softly like a caress, the breeze warm on skin.

Spring has long passed, and summer’s peak has already been reached. It is time for fall to reach out its fingers to embrace the city in its arms. Fall deprives the summer of its warmth, takes the leaves’ life, paints nature in hues of red and yellow to make up for the cruel theft.

The air feels thick against his skin. The humidity rises with the rain and sweat breaks out on his neck. His bag leans heavy against his leg, waiting for the time that Jae will pick it up and finally go on his way out.

His way to freedom.

Yet, he still sits here in this garden, all dressed up in his black suit and shining rings and watches how the gentle rain turns the peaceful scenery into something melancholic. Maybe there is a ghost floating around the garden, one that looks up to the sky to soak in the last rays of a no longer shining sun, hoping that ashen skin becomes something colorful.

And with some musing, Jae thinks that the ghost already has so many colors painted on its figure. Because when Jae looks at it, really looks at the trees and flowers and the small abandoned bench that he is sat himself on, he can see it.

The everlasting longing to a time that has seen too many seasons change again, again, and again.

For such a long time Jae has been wondering if Younghyun built this garden in memory of what they once were, of what they could have been. Now, Jae will never know and all that is left are ifs and maybes.

Blond hair flows in the wind. Eyelashes cast black shadows on beautifully curved cheekbones. A skin tone that is tanned and very healthy, especially in stark contrast to the nearly white long hair. The eyes are closed, maybe for the better as Jae can’t bear the memory of the intensity in those eyes right now.

The fondness that he may detect within them.

Has once detected in them.

Because the ghost in front of him is just that; a lingering memory of a boy that he once fell in love with and never learned how to fall out of. Ever since Park Jaehyung has met Kang Younghyun, the world felt somehow — brighter. Better.

A feeling that got overshadowed by all the darkness that came with loving Younghyun.

Jae loves Younghyun. And he will never stop doing so.

The ghost eventually looks at him. A smile plays around his lips. It shines so bright, no wonder that Jae hadn’t seen the darkness behind it. He still can’t see it clearly. Younghyun always shines so bright. So pretty that Jae is scared of what happens if he touches him. Will he destroy that?

_Happy Birthday, hyung!_

A chuckle leaves his throat as he remembers the day. Eight years? Has it already been eight years since that day? Eight years with Younghyun. Eight long years that were spent with so much resentment that it clogs Jae’s throat and burdens his chest.

Eight years of Jae and Younghyun and not a day passes that he loves the younger any less than the first day.

Are they happy in another universe?

Jae leans his head back to watch the rain pelting against the roof made of glass, melting into one blanket of wetness. The surface of a dark ocean that slowly starts to move. Jae had finally moved and caused waves to stir.

His bag suddenly falls over on the floor. The ghost is gone.

But Jae never stops watching the rain.

“Hyung?”

The rain slowly eases up but never fades out. The seat next to him is no longer unoccupied.

“Wonpil-hyung told me—” Jae hears the other taking a sharp breath before he continues speaking. His voice breaks. “After tonight, I will never see you again.”

Wonpil never knows when to leave things. Good old Wonpil who shows so much more warmth than Jae is ever able to. Jae should feel ashamed of it; Wonpil is a sociopath who kills people without feeling any remorse and still, he looks after Jae as if he deserves every ounce of love that Wonpil is able to give.

Jae swallows heavily before he finally looks down to Chan, only to turn away from him once again when he sees the wetness clinging to Chan’s eyes. “What about it?” he tries to ask gruffly. It ends as a whisper instead.

“So, it’s true then?” Chan fiddles with his fingers. “You are going back to America?” He catches Jae in surprise when he switches into a heavily accented English – a heavily Australian accented English. Something that Jae only rarely gets to enjoy.

His look lingers on Chan’s avoiding gaze, watching every twitch and move.

“Maybe.”

In less than a few hours Jae will be gone from Seoul. From Korea. Back home to where the shore calls him. Jae won’t take a swim for a long time but will always be entranced by the astounding view of the shore.

Home.

(Why does it feel so empty, though?)

“You could visit your parents,” Chan suggests offhandedly in a quiet voice. “Or your old friends.”

His old life. Jae had thought about it. Nearly every night he laid awake in his bed and though about the what-ifs once he is freed. He wishes so much to find solace in his mom’s arms. Surprise her and his dad with his outstanding Korean speaking skills. Tell them about how pretty Seoul is but not as pretty as their home. And then he would visit his old friends and buy them all the CDs he once borrowed and never gave back.

Jae had thought much about it. And then always remembered Sammy.

“We both know that it’s impossible,” he retorts bitterly. “It’s too risky.”

“Sungjin-hyung could—”

Jae shakes his head. “There is nothing Sungjin can do about it. I chose to live this life and have to bear the consequences.”

The earth turns a darker shade when the rain gets heavier and the trees can’t keep it away anymore where the glass ceiling doesn’t reach anymore.

“Do you hate it so much? Your life here?”

Huh? He never really thought about it. Every day so far Jae despised to wake up and go on his routine. Ever since his feet entered the ground of Seoul, his shoulders were laden heavy with a weight that burdens him much to the point of no full recovery. Wounds leave scars that even time can’t heal.

However, there are some things Jae found solace in. The small things that tend to be overseen in the big picture. Things like a snarky hairdresser, a warm-hearted hitman, the love of his life—

“Not everything.” He feels Chan’s gaze shifting onto him, burning into his head. Jae huffs. “Yes, you’re part of not everything.”

He feels the grin thrown at him. Maybe Chan’s boyish smile makes his heartbeat a bit easier.

“I really hope—” Chan suddenly punches lightly against Jae’s arm with a sad but happy smile. “—that you will finally find peace in the place that you go to. Just—don’t forget about us, alright? Even if you still hate us for everything we’ve done to you.”

“I don’t—I don’t hate you,” Jae clears with a grimace. “I was only hurt, I guess. Because I thought you’re my friend and not—”

“But we are, aren’t we?” The hand slides down along his arm and takes Jae’s into his. Jae normally isn’t all about skinship but for now he lets Chan. Just for a last time. “You are my hyung. Nothing will change that. We have been a good team for seven years. So, thank you, I guess. For forgiving me.”

Jae turns back to watch the rain against the roof. His heart aches a bit less.

“Maybe I’ll send you a postcard.”

“Sure hope you do. I’ll be doing your job from now on.”

Jae chuckles. “Good thing you’ve prepared for this for months now.”

It still aches painfully in his chest.

Like a black hole burning through his whole being.

~~~

_“People change. Only if we are forgiven, we are able to grow with our mistakes. What does it help to stay stubborn if we give up our peace of mind for that?”_

_“I can’t forgive him, Sungjin. I just—I can’t.”_

_“Do you? Because I get the feeling that we aren’t talking about Younghyun anymore. You made a mistake. That’s okay. You are only human. Instead of punishing yourself for that, find solace in it.”_

_“I don’t—”_

_“Promise me. Promise that you will think about that. Then and only then I will give you Younghyun. But honestly, Younghyun will jump over a bridge if you ask him to. His loyalty doesn’t belong to me. It never had.”_

~~~

The car ride is tinged with silence and tension. Jae’s shoulder ache in how rigid his posture is as he watches the scenery passing him in a blur. The rain pelts against the window, getting heavier and laying on thick with thunder and lighting. Wonpil next to him hasn’t once let go of his hand.

When the clock had advanced well over 2 o’clock, Jae was walking up and down through the grass of the park. His hair and clothes laid wet against his skin until Wonpil found him there pacing and Chan watching him quietly.

He was about to say something, Jae had seen it in the younger’s worried expression melting into something indifferent, when suddenly Jae’s ringtone filled the garden with much more tension that had already found a place in their minds.

Now, here he is, the clock achingly getting closer to the four o’clock mark – Jae’s deadline. Dowoon’s fingers tap against the wheel as he drives cautiously but fast towards their destination. Neither of those two, Wonpil nor Dowoon, are supposed to come with him. Seunghyun asked him to come alone and Jae has already known then that Wonpil’s going to be by his side, hidden by the shadows. Dowoon, however, pleaded with pouty lips and big puppy eyes to take him with them.

It’s his last chance to help Jae, he explained – and Jae melted instantly.

Sungjin was hesitant to let them go. Not because he saw the danger in disregarding Seunghyun’s words, no, more because he wanted to come with them and make sure of Brian’s condition. It was Jaebeom then who tugged on his sleeve and shook his head to tell him ‘no’. It only took Sungjin another glance throughout the emptying casino that Sungjin knew he didn’t have any other choice than to stay.

And Jae is glad for it.

Who knows what Sungjin would’ve done once he saw that Brian is more dead than alive. At least, that is what Jae assumes about the younger. Seunghyun and Daesung had him for hours by now, killing people only takes so long.

The car suddenly halts in front of a diner that does a poor job of hiding that rundown building behind it. The place where he is supposed to meet them.

They don’t leave the car immediately. Jae is hesitant to make his exit and Wonpil, as it seems, isn’t too keen on it as well. Dowoon’s fingers are still tapping.

The sudden chirping of Jae’s phone makes them all jump at the same time, something that Wonpil deems funny enough to suddenly start giggling. And then Dowoon joins in with his deep and adorable laugh, and Jae knows that somehow, this situation got a little bit better. Just a little bit.

The smile on his face instantly wipes off once he sees the message.

_Eric Nam  
We’re all set. Waiting for your signal._

“It’s time to go, right?” Wonpil asks as he reads the message. He sounds detached and more like the professional that he is. He is the first to leave the car.

It leaves Jae alone with Dowoon in the front.

Who turns around and looks at Jae as if he’s going to talk about something that will turn his world on its axis.

“Hyung.” He stops at that to let his gaze penetrate the deepest of Jae’s mind. Jae only squirms at the intensity of that gaze.

(Why do all people wear such intense gazes today? Was there a club meeting that he’d missed?)

“I’m going to miss you.”

Jae abruptly looks up at the sudden admission of the younger. He’d expected anything from ‘if anything happens to Wonpil’ up to ‘I hope Brian is not dead’, really, but not that. So, he only croaks a pitiful “what” in return.

“We’re never going to see each other again after tonight. It’s just—before we lose any chance to, I wanted to tell you this. I’m going to miss you. You were a good hyung to me. And I appreciate everything you did for me or Wonpil.”

His eyes search for anything on Dowoon’s face to see the lies—yet, he only sees open honesty filled with much sorrow and happiness.

“I hope you will be happy wherever you go, hyung. And don’t forget us, alright?”

And to make it less awkward than it is now, Dowoon punches him lightly against his arm (which makes it awkward on a different level) and chuckles deeply at the flustered grimace Jae makes.

“Now get out of my car and tie up those loose ends.”

It is only when Jae closes the door behind him that he remembers—

“Yah, that’s my car!”

But he watches Dowoon driving off with a smile on his face.

“Shall we go?”

Thus, his last stopover of the night comes much faster than he wants it to. At least, he still has Wonpil by his side.

~~~

Jae stares at the door. Only a few steps until he is inside there and sees Brian again after hours that feel more like years. After this, Jae won’t ever see him again. After this, Jae will be free.

The rain is still pouring. Wetness clings to his hair and suit. He isn’t ready. But that’s not the point. Jae has to walk in there and just do it. Not much time is left until four o’clock.

He throws a last glance over his shoulder, roughly where Wonpil is hiding to keep an eye on Jae, before he enters the abandoned building in a stride.

Inside, just like out of a cliched drama, are standing Seunghyun and Daesung behind a chair, watching Jae like a hawk. Jae’s stomach clenches when he sees Brian tied to said chair, seemingly unconscious, his head hanging low and his hair hiding his face. It doesn’t do much to shield Jae from the cruel state of his body.

Blood pools around the floor. Drops slowly roll down from the tip of his nose until they fall into the pit of dark red blood, again and again. Brian’s suit is wet and clings to the form of his body, albeit the wetness doesn’t come from the leaking roof. A nauseating thought crawls up on Jae’s neck. This is Younghyun’s blood.

Of course, they wouldn’t leave him unscathed waiting for Jae. They are out for his blood, just like Brian let their brother bleed. And Jae, the idiot, gave them Brian willingly. It is his and only his fault that Brian is in this situation now.

Seunghyun awaits him patiently as Jae makes his way further into the room, straightening his lapels and pushing his hair out of his face. He licks over his lips as he tries to avoid the sight of Brian, only focusing on the two man behind him.

“Park Jaehyung,” Seunghyun eventually greets him with a simple nod. His face is blank, devoid of any emotion that Jae could read of him. The same goes for Daesung who stands by Seunghyun’s side like a watchdog.

“Seunghyun-ssi. Daesung-ssi.”

They are alone here. Maybe. Hopefully. Otherwise, Wonpil would be very busy outside searching for people hidden by the shadow.

The tension rises in the room. Thunder strikes and lightens the place shortly and Jae—

He sees Brian’s figure fully illuminated for a second. A second too much. A small gasp leaves him the same moment, thankfully covered by thunder, when his eyes perceive the knife stuck in his abdomen, covered in blood up to the handle. Red meets gold and silver, nothing shiny about this anymore.

The clock is ticking.

Seunghyun’s eyebrow rises when nothing happens. “Do you not want to greet your boss, Kang?” he asks mockingly as he grabs Brian’s hair and painfully tugs his head up.

Brian whimpers in pain at the abrupt motion, baring blood-stained teeth, swollen eyes and a broken nose. His skin is painted in hues of green and blue, all melting into an almost black. Jae feels the urge to throw up at the sight that tears his insides apart. He bites on his tongue to keep him from saying anything foolish and schools his face into something unaffected and blank.

Seunghyun can’t get to him. Not now. Not when he can smell freedom.

(Why does it smell so rotten and metallic like blood?)

Jae needs to get this deal going. The clock is ticking. Not much time is left for him until things will be out of his hands. Out of his control. So, he takes out the paper from inside his jacket and shows them to Seunghyun. “Well?”

Seunghyun stares at the paper for a moment, then lets go of Brian’s head (another whimper that shakes Jae to his bones) and takes a phone out of Daesung’s pocket. No words are spoken at all when he presses buttons, gets it to his ears until someone answers, then throws the phone to Jae.

The voice at the other end of the line makes his breathing stop for a second and eyes widen a fraction.

“Nice to hear from you again, Park Jaehyung.”

Jae scrambles for words as his mind goes blank for a second, even though he has prepared for the moment for days. He did tell Seunghyun that he wants to hear Jiyoung personally telling him that he’s free of debt. Is this then his final call?

“Likewise, Jiyoung-ssi.” His voice is tilted as if unsure of how to address the older. The sight of Brian slowly raising his head to look at him makes it so much harder to keep calm. To keep the charade going.

“Seunghyun told me all about how you fooled him into a game and made him lose the label.” Jiyoung sounds calm, even amused. “You surely surpassed my expectations after you pitifully disappeared to Ilsan.”

Jae takes a deep breath to control his breathing as not to gasp at the sudden information. “You knew?”

“Of course,” Jiyoung chuckles. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since you suddenly appeared on Jennie’s funeral. It wasn’t easy to see through your game but eventually, I thought I finally did. But then…” A rustle over the static noise and suddenly, Jiyoung’s amusement is vanished in his voice. “Then you handed us over the man who killed our brother. Your lover, nonetheless.”

Don’t tremble, Jae chides himself. His eyes flit up from Brian’s piercing gaze to Seunghyun’s bored. “ _Ex_ -lover,” he corrects Jiyoung weakly. “And I only did what you told me to.”

“And what was it that I told you to do?”

Sammy’s lifeless body flashes in his mind. The words written over his crucified body in blood.

“You’ve taken a tooth, now I’m giving you an eye. One life for another.”

Brian’s eyes gleam with some emotion. Thunder strikes, masking half of his face in shadow, all deranged and yet so beautiful. Jae’s breath feels like stolen from the horror of the situation that crashes into him, settling down on his shoulders where it has long made its home.

His hand forms to a fist as he tries to stay in control of his body. He can’t shake, he can’t show any weakness. Not in front of Seunghyun, not in front of Brian. Neither can know what he feels. Not when one can use it against him and the other for him.

“You really think that you can blind us with your generosity, don’t you?” Jiyong scoffs. “First, you trick Seunghyun into losing the label and then you give it back just because you can. And on top of it, you give us our brother’s murderer because you don’t need him anymore. All because of your foolish hope to remedy your own actions?”

“I’ve also offered you the club—”

“But that’s the strange thing, you know? You set those things in motion, killed our brother, stole our club and then give us everything back and even more for your own freedom. If you hadn’t picked a fight against us, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. I honestly fail to understand your motivation, Park Jaehyung.”

The reason is simple. Easy.

“Plans change.”

In the course of one night he had overthrown everything he wanted to happen and went to Sungjin with something new and better because he had seen that this isn’t how he wants to leave this place.

There are things in this city that he will leave behind. He doesn’t want to leave Seoul as the traitor that he is. He is indebted to so many people and to betray them like that, Jae couldn’t do it.

This is part of his remedy. He made mistakes that he now tries to mend. Blinded with rage and anger, yes, but still thoughtful of those he cherishes.

“Plans change,” Jae repeats again when nothing else is said. “I just want peace between us. Between Six and Bigbang. Take the label, take the club, take Younghyun and just stay the hell out of our business.” His voice rises with every sentence as he starts to get bolder.

Jiyoung only chuckles. “This was never between me and Six. I knew from the first minute on that you act on your own. But I guess you only want to leave this place in peace, right?”

Brian’s eyes are pleading with him. Pleading for what?

_He would jump over a bridge for you._

Isn’t it scary? To know that there is someone out there willing to die for your own sake? Isn’t this sheer dumbness to give up your life out of love? How can Younghyun do that? How could Jae do that?

How could he have been so dumb to give up his own life out of love?

Don’t they both deserve each other just for that?

Brian’s eyes are pleading with him to finally get this deal through and leave this place. Jae’s heart sinks, breaking into thousand pieces that he had so cautiously fitted together after being broken once. His mind screams at him.

“Do we have a deal?” He pushes instead, just to finally get it over with.

Jae licks over his lips. Swallows. Blinks.

“Yes.”

There are no words to describe the relief that rushes through his veins at the simple word from the other end of the line. He wishes he could stare into the starry night, let the rain wash all the tension away from him along with the tears that would be rolling down his cheeks, then falling down on his knees and—

His eyes meet Br—Younghyun’s again. Something rushes through those when Younghyun’s lips twitch before they form a soft and warm smile.

Jae wishes he could take him into his arms and whisper words of affection into his ear, telling him everything will be alright, bathing in the rain of the city that looks enviously down at them.

Instead, he doesn’t do anything of that. He only listens to Jiyoung’s words while keeping the eye-contact with Younghyun, not moving a muscle.

“We’re even, then. But don’t think about pulling another thing, otherwise I’m going to pay you a visit in your early retirement. Don’t forget, you’re on my radar for the rest of your life. Don’t mess with me and you won’t hear a thing from me.”

And with that, Jiyoung hangs up without Jae having another word.

As if he had any.

The phone clatters on the floor as Jae lets go of it. The paper in his hand flutters to the floor in front of him. His gaze finally wanders from Younghyun up to Seunghyun who cocks his head in faked interest.

“We’re finished here?” Seunghyun asks flatly. His hand grips Younghyun’s shoulder tightly, making the younger clench his teeth to suppress another whimper.

It’s a decision made in the moment. The kind where you don’t think long enough and just do it—the instinct in him reaching out to long for a last time. Perhaps it is less instinct and more sentiment that is speaking to him as his heart throbs painfully against his chest at the sight of Younghyun eyeing him with so much suppressed pain and unleashed relief.

He doesn’t hesitate to ask at all.

“Can I have a moment with him?” When Seunghyun cocks his eyebrow Jae adds, “Please?”

Surprise gleams in Younghyun’s eyes like the last dying stars in the sky. Bright and beautiful to look at, filling Jae with so many different emotions that he doesn’t know where to start working through them.

And when he sees Seunghyun silently conversing with Daesung through small gestures and looks, both hesitant and about to decline his simple request, Jae takes a step forward and widens his arms to make him look smaller. Harmless. “I just want to say goodbye to my lover, alright?”

While Daesung’s face hardens at the simple admission Seunghyun sees something in his posture that makes him nod curtly at Jae. “Just a few minutes and then you’re gone. Without him.”

“Cross my heart.”

Once Seunghyun and Daesung provide him something akin to privacy by walking further into the scarcely lit room, Jae dares to take a few steps towards Younghyun who is watching with lingering surprise on his face.

Why is breathing so hard in his direct vicinity?

Jae’s fingers dart out to softly touch Younghyun’s bloodied jawline. A caress that bears so many silent words that can’t be spoken at all. His breath stutters when those intense eyes get wider with each touch, hungrily taking in everything Jae gives them as if he is the light during his darkest hours.

Younghyun is—even though his face is beaten to a pulp and skin barely seen in between all this blood – the most beautiful sight that Jae’s eyes will ever be able to see. After such a long time he can finally grasp the reason why those eyes are filled with such intensity, why every touch, every caress, every shared breath feels so much like colors splayed onto a white canvas.

Alive.

Jae feels alive knowing that those eyes will always belong to him. That there is no one else in this world that Younghyun will look at with such emotion in his eyes.

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, and Kang Younghyun is the most beautiful sight that will ever walk on this earth. That, Jae will never doubt for the rest of his life.

This epiphany, as euphoric as it may seem, crushes into him like thousands of bricks.

In his weakest moment where he finally opens his eyes inside the ocean, his hands get ahold of Younghyun’s jaw, and Jae leans down to him. Younghyun’s eyes flutter close in anticipation, his lips opening slightly—

Only for those eyes to jump open instantly when Jae’s lips meet the sweat-drenched skin of his forehead, sweet and lingering with so many words that can’t be spoken because no language in this world can carry the meaning that Jae wishes to convey.

“ _Everything_ —” Jae whispers against his forehead before his lips skim down to his right cheek. “— _has changed_.” Then his left cheek. “ _But I’m starting to wait_ —” His nose. “— _for_ —” And lastly, they graze his lips, softly, a last whisper, “— _tomorrow_.”

Kissing Younghyun—Jae doesn’t know anymore. Kissing Younghyun just feels _right_. No fireworks, no blooming flowers, no butterflies, only this satisfying feeling that the person he is kissing will always be more than enough and that there will never be anyone better. There can’t be anyone better, not when something deeply inside him slots into that dark abandoned place and makes it shine brightly; not when the surface finally breaks and Jae can see it—

All those colors in his world, overwhelming and addicting, that no tide can drown him again, not when he gets a taste of what colors feel like. How bright the world suddenly is outside of this deep darkness, though Jae doesn’t dare to open his eyes at all.

The first breath after the kiss burns in his lungs, yet it feels freeing. He wants more of it. So much more. So, Jae kisses him again, first soft pecks, then hungrier, more aggressive. There isn’t much thinking involved, not in the way Jae suddenly ends up sitting in Younghyun’s lap and attacking his lips like he is the drowned man that is starving for air.

The wetness of his fingers takes him back to the moment, realizing there are tears flowing out of Younghyun’s eyes, that look at him with so much loss and sadness. This is the first time he sees it. The first time in years that he sees the tears flowing out of Younghyun’s eyes. A broken mirror where Jae can’t see anything but Younghyun’s deepest feelings.

His thumbs wipe the tears away, but they still come flowing down like waterfalls. His heart breaks with every shed tear more and more. This, this is the truth that his ignorant being doesn’t want to face.

“Jae, I’m—”

Jae shuts him up with another kiss that Younghyun can’t respond to, not when a sob trashes through his throat directly into Jae’s mouth. He tries again, but Jae doesn’t want him to. He shuts him with kisses again until Younghyun quietens down.

“Jae—”

“I’m sorry.”

Jae looks deeply into his eyes. His own reflect so much more sorrow than he wants them to. This is Jae bared for the first time in years.

Push and pull.

A perfect equilibrium that can only be achieved if both are willing to give and take equally.

If Younghyun lets his tears flow and shows Jae his deepest being, then Jae wants to give something back.

“I’m sorry for everything, Younghyunnie. I’m so sorry.”

A last kiss that lingers for such a long time, yet it still feels too short. There is no time left since time has long ran out for them.

And when Jae finally pulls back, a few steps apart from him, all colors are suddenly lost to the world, and breathing feels like drowning once again.

Leaving feels hard. Especially with how much Younghyun tries to stop his tears to look like the unyielding man he prides himself to be that Jae knows he isn’t (because someone without a heart can’t write songs that are able to touch his deepest core).

Jae himself wants to tear up and take this man into his arms, to tell him that it’s okay, that the world will shine in so many bright colors again once the sun starts to rise, but then it hits him painfully.

Younghyun won’t see the sunrise ever again.

The sudden sound of a cocking gun crashes his reality. Jae’s head whips up to see Daesung aiming at him and Seunghyun staring him down.

It’s time to leave.

Jae raises his hands and slowly steps back towards the door.

“If we see your face ever again—” and Seunghyun doesn’t need to end the sentence because they all know what he means.

And within seconds, Jae is out. Out of this building. Out of this deal. Out of—

The night isn’t nice to him. It’s cruel and dark and rotten and steals every second Jae needs right now to catch his breath because he left Younghyun in there with his soon-to-be murderers.

Younghyun won’t see the sunrise again.

It’s all Jae’s fault. And what did he do? Plead for forgiveness with kisses that should be his farewell and Younghyun, that idiot, had already forgiven him before Jae handed him over to his fate.

A scream is stuck in his throat just like his breath.

He is an idiot, blind of love and rage and hatred. Didn’t he learn anything after all this time?

Jae gave up the one thing in his life that made him the happiest man walking on earth. He traded the life of a human being for his own. This is—he has indeed fallen as low as the people of the world he despises so much.

There isn’t much time left for Jae, not when suddenly someone sneaks up behind him and is about to stick a knife into his back. Jae jumps back in surprise and catches the knife with his own blood-drenched hands. Both slip at the wetness caused by the still pouring rain.

The unknown person is about to strike again when he suddenly flinches back and falls down. Blood pools around his body and melts with the rain on the asphalt. Jae immediately scrambles away from the body.

Steps echo through the side-street and Jae breathes in relief when Wonpil emerges from the shadow with his gun snugly fit between his hands. A silencer makes the gun seem much longer than it is.

“Is everything alright, hyung?!” Wonpil starts checking him for wounds, especially where the blood stained his skin and clothes.

Jae only nods lightly and pushes him away to get some space to—he doesn’t know. This whole situation is overwhelming him. It doesn’t help at all when Wonpil pushes a bag into his arms and pulls him up on his feet, his gaze flittering through the darkness to hear if someone is approaching them.

“What—”

“Follow that street and then go left. There are garbage containers where you can hide between. Then walk straight until you find the main street. Your car is waiting there.” Wonpil then pulls him in a crashing hug and kisses his cheek. “I love you, hyung. Don’t forget that, okay? But please, go home now.” Wonpil shoves him further down the street when Jae doesn’t move. “Go!”

“But what about—”

“Dowoon is somewhere near waiting for me. Don’t worry, I have everything under control. Now, go, hyung!”

And then Jae suddenly finds himself in this situation.

The clock strikes finally four in the night and somehow within twenty-four hours, everything changed. He is breathing hard between those containers despite the heavy smell, gasping through the rain.

He opens the bag and finds a change of clothes for him. His hazy sight and lack of coherent thoughts make it hard to shrug off his suit and then his shirt, especially when his eyes linger on the blood on his skin, slowly washed off by the rain.

Younghyun’s blood.

With a loud and tearing scream, he wrenches himself out of his black shirt, the fabric following the jacket into the trash.

He rubs again and again against his skin to get the blood off, but all he sees is the redness accentuating his scars littered everywhere.

His scream turns into desperate sobs tearing through the night.

The fresh clothes do nothing to stop the rain hitting him. It only hides the tears that he can’t stop from flowing. His body trembles in regret and fear. He tastes blood on his lips, metallic and sour. They still tingle from that kiss.

He doesn’t look back when leaving the street. He can’t.

Otherwise, he can’t stop himself from running back and destroying everything he has worked so hard for.

This Jae is different from the one from college. This Jae is cruel and deprived from all the innocence that was once his own light. The devil had tempted him and Jae bit into the apple like the fool he was.

There is no salvation for people like him. They only lie broken on a street, watching the rain pouring down as they drown in their own darkness.

Even the night can’t hide the shadow, his sole companion for the rest of his life.

Wonpil’s right, there is a shiny and fancy car waiting for him at the end of the street. Sleek and black, hidden by the shadow and shining bright in the light. Jae enters the car with no care if he wets the seats or dirties them with the stench of garbage.

His phone rings with a sudden message. A reminder. Right, there is still something left to do.

And when Jae looks up, he sees none other than Min Yoongi sitting opposite him.

The only surprising thing here is the gun aimed at him.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> But good thing, next week is going to be a special chapter. We finally get the POV of someone who isn't Jae - but it's more of a flashback. And it's only at the beginning because then we'll follow Jae again.
> 
> Next week - Track 16: The coverings have fallen off and ripped, you’ve finally seen me


	16. Track 16: The coverings have fallen off and ripped, you’ve finally seen me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title by Day6 - Cover
> 
> What do we have here? POV change? And then it's from Younghyun's perspective? Wow~

When Kang Younghyun finished high school, he did the first thing that all young adults want to in his place – move out from home. Possibly as far away as he could. Most favorably, he would have thrown a dart on the map and see where he would end up in.

The dart hit Ecuador. Younghyun reconsidered.

It was a gradual decision process that lasted throughout his last high school year. That was until he heard his father talking about expanding to overseas where he had connections to an old friend. Then Younghyun packed all of his seven things after his father’s approval and practically ran away from home and the burdening responsibility of his predestined future.

Oh, hail Canada. All those long hours of watching Shrek to learn the wise language of the internet finally paid off. And English, of course.

Coming to Toronto – or coming to a foreign country without someone he knew by his side – was a culture shock to him. No one called him their big brother with some kind of honorific, bowed or thanked him as much as people did at home. Younghyun was prepared for that (otherwise the American sitcom marathon would have been for waste) and even better, he loved this shit.

Especially the hair colors.

The first thing he did? Dyeing his black hair into something wild like ash gray and styling it like — yes, like an idol, he would say. His father paid him enough money to keep a flat near campus, eat take-out every other day and even buy some fancy things he wouldn’t have dared to back home in Seoul.

His first big purchase? A classic guitar because his old one was still hidden under his bed (hopefully).

His next was the bass.

And then notebooks. A lot of them since he had found his heart in writing small poems that then somehow progressed into lyrics for songs. (Something that his father had forbidden once he saw what he and Chan had been up to instead of studiously cramming for school.)

Younghyun was living the prime of his life in Canada. He and his new best friend Terry went bar hopping every weekend, formed study groups with cute girls and drank as if there was no tomorrow. And because Younghyun was still the son of a mobster, he knew how to get the good things like weed (and other stuff that filled his pockets with even more money).

In rare moments his father liked to send him on missions in the middle of the night to tell him about men and women who wanted to meet him (Younghyun—Brian, he was Brian now—never went to those meetings, though). In even rarer moments Younghyun went out the night and came home with blood stained clothes just before dawn.

Until one day his mother stopped calling and eventually his father did as well. It didn’t bother Younghyun at all because he was busy having the time of his life as Brian Kang, business major who sung passionately in small bars.

In one of those bars he met Kim Jaehyun. Jaehyun played the drums sometimes for some of Younghyun’s gigs, smiled at him during conversations, touched him when no one was looking— Younghyun was, in a way, falling.

Jaehyun revived a certain curiosity that Younghyun had long buried back then at home. In Canada it was somewhat okay to look at men as he normally did at girls. So, Younghyun got curious again and let himself be touched.

Fingers lingering against hands, eyes meeting again and not shying away, smiles playing around lips that were only given to each other.

One day, small touches turned hungrier and bolder. It was Younghyun who did the first step then. He took Jaehyun’s face and just like that—kissed him like he kissed all those girls before. Only that Jaehyun was a man. Younghyun could confirm that fact later that night because his hunger wasn’t satisfied with kissing alone.

It was an epiphany for Younghyun. Not once in his life would he have thought that getting it up in the ass felt like seeing paradise. Those orgasms couldn’t compare to any of those he had experienced before.

Jaehyun stayed for a long time and Younghyun was happy. They were quite the couple, walking around campus, openly holding hands (because fuck that, he could do this without bringing dishonor and shame to his family) and kissing each other good-bye.

However, the happy part didn’t last for long. Jaehyun started to ask questions about Younghyun’s parents and origin. They were harmless and innocent – ‘ _What exactly is your father doing again?’ –_ but Younghyun was cautious to not let anything slip by. He spun a web of lies that eventually dug the grave of their relationship.

“You’re constantly lying, Brian!” Jaehyun accused him and hit the truth on its head.

Younghyun couldn’t exactly object to that and that was that. He watched Jaehyun leaving his flat with a last disappointed look over the shoulder and a sentence that hit him deeply.

“I don’t even know your real name, Brian Kang.”

Because, well, Younghyun hadn’t told him that. He was so immersed in being Brian Kang, business major and all that, that he had all forgotten about Kang Younghyun, heir of a mob.

Over the next weeks he tried to contact his mother, father, anyone, but never got an answer. He even tried to ask the local gangs for connections, searched for old business partners that he had never bothered to actually meet, only to end up with nothing.

Except for a name—an old friend of his father who was enjoying his retirement in his posh house near Beverly Hills.

Hence, when he saw an ad for a flat hanging on the black board of his university, his decision was instantly made. He applied for the flat, applied for the business course at the USC, and said good-bye to all his friends in Canada. Terry even had a farewell present for him.

“A hair saloon coupon?” Younghyun looked confused at the flyer in his hand. Terry only beamed at him and hours later, Younghyun stood with his freshly bleached hair in the airport to take the next flight to the States.

America wasn’t that much different from Canada. They had people that looked even fancier and more overboard than those back in Toronto, had bars where he could play music and local gangs that welcomed him with open arms once he stated his name.

Even here Younghyun could kiss men and women alike, let his hair grow out to his chin, look like the ruffled-up rockstar he dreamt of being. Business was going in college and on the street, but from his father he heard nothing at all.

Just then, only a few weeks into his life in America, he suddenly got a call from an unknown number.

“Younghyun-ah! It’s me, Sungjin!”

And when Sungjin proceeded to call him every then and now with little missions and deals Younghyun knew that something was up. Either his old man got wind of Younghyun slacking off in Canada and had decided to replace him with Sungjin, or, and that Younghyun dreaded only a little bit, Sungjin operated on his own and fed him lies about his father.

(Months later down the line when Sungjin visited him for the first time, Younghyun was told that either guess was right. His father was suspicious about Younghyun’s doings but Sungjin covered for him with help of – surprisingly unsurprising — Chan and then managed to kill the old man and his wife once the members of the mob followed Sungjin blindly.)

Younghyun did what he was told to and continued living a fulfilled life – cut down to a healthy level to keep his double life. He went to classes in the morning, studied in the afternoon, wrote songs in the evening, dealt with drugs on the side and killed people in the night.

And then, one day—

We all perfectly know what happened.

Every Friday night Younghyun took off from his duties to play in that run-down bar down the street near college. He played the guitar, performed a cover song before bellowing one of his own, got a few drinks at the bar in hopes of getting laid, and then continued to live his life in peace.

Only that one Friday night one of the regulars brought a friend with him – a lanky Asian-American who looked like he would rather be anywhere else than in this bar. Younghyun didn’t pay him much attention at first. He would sing with his eyes closed, feeling the rhythm and then progressing to one of his own, a slower ballad talking about regrets and salvation, but when he opened his eyes—

That lanky guy was staring at him as if he hung the stars in the sky with his own hands.

Not once in the history of him playing in a bar had a man looked at him with such an intense gaze. Even though this threw him out of the loop, Younghyun was a cool and collected sort of guy. He finished the song without a hitch, put the guitar to the back and immediately walked to the front of the bar in hopes of finding lanky guy with golden rimmed glasses called—

Park Jaehyung.

Park Jaehyung who studied poli-sci at the same college as him, whose whole face wrinkled when he laughed, who talked in more memes than Younghyun could ever know of, and who didn’t judge him at all for his Shrek obsession. Oh, and he played the guitar and loved music just as much as Younghyun did.

That night when Younghyun came home alone because he wasn’t able to find Jae, he sat behind the desk and wrote ‘Hunt’ within hours. The day he heard Jae playing one of his songs, Younghyun came home alone again, this time with a bright smile on his face and lips that still tingled from that light kiss. That day Younghyun wrote ‘Say wow’.

To say that meeting Jae was the best thing ever in his life would be an understatement. Jae was so much more than that. Where Younghyun had slowly fallen in love with Jaehyun (maybe he had a knack for that name), falling in love with Jae was easy. Too easy even. There was no progress of falling to begin with.

Younghyun suddenly started to slack off at his father’s business just to get some more nights with Jae (because being fucked by Jae is like asking to ascend to heaven) and more days with Jae and just more everything.

He didn’t dare lying to Jae, so when Jae asked him about Korea and family, Younghyun told him half-truths. He diverted the topic to something else that Jae – which Younghyun is still thankful for – sprung onto immediately because he respected his closed-off personality.

Anyone could tell that Younghyun was undoubtedly in love. Younghyun was over the moon with Jae. All his songs revolved around the older, and the way his heart rapped in his chest the first time he was allowed to call Jae ‘hyung’ or when he called him _Younghyun_ instead of _Brian_ the first time—

You get the point.

Younghyun was in love. And Younghyun was suddenly faced with the brutal and poetic truth that he fell in love with the possibly most innocent human being in this world. Sweet Park Jaehyung hadn’t seen much evil with his shielded and strict upbringing; the socially awkward outsider of this world. Then there is Kang Younghyun, a wolf in sheep’s clothes.

To say that he was surprised that Jae still accepted him even after he found out about the double-life—he was ecstatic. He could openly be the person he wanted to be and had nothing to hide from Jae anymore.

But—

That gigantic but, there it was. Even though Jae was ready to dive into the dark world that Younghyun had been born to, Younghyun simply didn’t want him to. And with time he knew that he couldn’t let Jae in. Jae was his light, a last piece of innocence that tempted Younghyun to be a better man than he ever could be.

No matter what Younghyun did then – stopped talking about deals, showing him the ugliest side by killing someone in front of Jae, slowly breaking down every piece of Jae’s love for his black side – Jae didn’t stop following him.

Younghyun left him bleeding on the street and Jae came back.

Again.

Even when left in Seoul all alone, he came back.

The day when he left Jae alone on a rainy day, bleeding in the streets of Seoul, he hit his fist again and again against the wall to finally stop the aching pain in his chest, only for Chan carefully coaxing his fingers into his hand to take care of the bleeding.

And then, he put a cigarette into his mouth with a sad smile, telling him that this was what his father had done when he was upset.

Younghyun started chain-smoking that night.

(Hell, he started chain-smoking even before that to get rid of the tension building in his chest.)

From then on, loving Jae became something to do between stolen moments. When Jae was looking at him, Younghyun would revert into his cold stare, flirting shamelessly with sarcastic and somewhat mean remarks. But when Jae wasn’t looking at him, Younghyun couldn’t hold in the longing and watched the older as if he was one of the stars in the sky.

Years passed like that.

When Jae slept near him, Younghyun would stop and stare. Sometimes even dare to caress his cheek or brush his hair out of his face.

When Younghyun noticed Jae’s close relationship to Wonpil, he smoked more than a package a day because throwing a punch into Wonpil’s face wasn’t the solution to his—well, whatever.

When Sungjin wondered why Younghyun never made up with Jae again, Younghyun only glanced to Jae’s direction and shook his head.

When Chan told him about Jae’s suspicious activities revolving around a certain kingpin, Younghyun knew he had to do something before things got out of hand.

Hence when Chan revealed what Jae might be up to, Younghyun only gave him a paper with access to all the money he had once inherited from his father to start the operation.

Younghyun needed Jae out of business fast and, in the best-case scenario, Younghyun would be gone with him.

“You know that things get serious between Kim Namjoon and Jae, right?” Chan asked, hovering in the door. His gaze found the sleeping form of a bruised Jae in Younghyun’s arms, a frown on his face.

Younghyun carefully caressed Jae’s dyed hair, glided his fingers along the slope of his nose right down to his plush lips that Younghyun very much wanted to kiss. So very, very much.

“I know,” Younghyun eventually said. He never took his gaze off of Jae. Jae peacefully sleeping in his arms was a rare sight for him. Last time Jae did that was years ago.

“And you knew that the guy in your cellar was from Bangtan, right?” Younghyun nodded again. “Why, though? Why did you keep him?”

It was simple, really, just as simple as the warm feeling erupting in his chest when Jae nuzzled deeper into Younghyun and sighed in his sleep. But then again, how simple could love ever be?

“Kim Namjoon is sticking his nose into things that isn’t his business,” was Younghyun’s curt answer. Simple, really.

Loving Jae was simple. It was second nature to Younghyun, just like breathing. He endured the aching pain in his chest, endured all the cursing and names Jae called him, all the accusations and guilt-trips, the push and pull game, everything. Younghyun did all of that just for Jae because without Jae, Younghyun couldn’t be Younghyun anymore. Only Brian, as Jae preferred to call him out of spite.

Younghyun would die for Jae. He wouldn’t be mad at him for that. Wasn’t when he laid in the hospital. Wasn’t angry when Jae got it all wrong about his plan. Jae had those ideas about Younghyun and it was okay for him. Because Younghyun still loved Jae and he was sure that Jae still loved him as well.

Because Jae was still here with him.

But it wasn’t okay when Jae stole his car to have a nice night with a random guy in a random motel room and then had G-Dragon’s men nearly finding him. That’s where he cut the line. It was enough that he had to share with Wonpil, but a random guy that would rat him out the first chance he got? Younghyun was furious.

Not one of his proudest moments, that’s for sure.

“That’s why I am asking you.”

During one of his lowest moments Sungjin came to visit him. To look after him, he’d said. Younghyun would have laughed if he wasn’t occupied by burying his head into his hands and accepting his fate.

“You can still say no, y’know?” Even though it sounded like Sungjin was giving him a way out Younghyun knew better. “Jae is hurt, obviously, and I’m sure he will regret it as soon as he does it… Just decline it, Younghyun, this isn’t worth dying for.”

This time Younghyun really chuckled. “That’s the problem, hyung, isn’t it?”

Because the point was and would always be that Jae was always worth dying for. Always. Which meant that the moment Sungjin stepped into his house looking after him but actually asking him if he wanted to sacrifice his life so Jae could flee from this life and save Sungjin’s little business, Younghyun was doomed to death.

“Don’t sweat too much about it,” Sungjin then tried to appease him. “Like I said, Jae will regret it. Plus, you know that you’re part of my family. Our family.”

Younghyun did.

Younghyun still does.

And that worries him up to this minute, tied on a chair, bleeding, ready to die for Jae’s freedom. He really doesn’t want it to be for naught, so if Jae suddenly decides to do something dumb again, Younghyun will hit some sense into his pretty head. And then kiss him senseless again since that tingling feeling on his lips doesn’t want to vanish at all.

Over sixty songs Younghyun has written and he is a little bit proud to admit that more than half of them are about Jae.

Hopefully Jae gets to read them someday.

Will Jae remember him?

Even in death — Younghyun muses while Daesung continues punching him — he will always love that lanky Asian-American boy who gave him once the taste of a life full of colors.

~~~

A single drop of rain runs down along his cheek until it reaches his jaw, dropping onto the black fabric of his hoodie. Another one follows, then another, another, another…

But maybe, they aren’t only rain at all. His eyes are rimmed red, a light burning ache, the picture in front of him blurred despite wearing his glasses.

Who needs to see anyways? Jae knows who is sitting across him, holding a black something (a gun, Jae is able to recognize guns from afar at this point) aimed at him while its owner slouches in his seat lazily. His face is expressionless except for the drooping and half-closed eyes. Black hair lies perfectly across his forehead, shining and healthy.

A contrast to Jae’s wet and upset form. His back is ramrod straight, his shoulders stiff in tension and his hair—

Let’s stop at that.

The most important part here is Min Yoongi holding a gun in his hands while looking as if he’s on his way to drink tea with granny.

The car finally starts and drives onto the empty street down a way that Jae isn’t much sure where it ends at.

“Good evening to you, too,” Jae eventually ruins the perfectly tensed silence between them after making sure that he won’t start sobbing pathetically again. Not in front of the man who has his tickets for his way out. Literally.

Tickets that Yoongi is suddenly waving in front of his face. “Your flight’s in a few hours. You’ll fly over Tokyo, then Warsaw and Amsterdam before heading straight to Detroit where you’ll board a flight to Los Angeles. At each station you’ll have a new name and a new passport.”

He then throws an old payphone into Jae’s lap. “Wait for instruction on where to find new phones and passports. Put this on as soon as you’ll arrive in Tokyo, not earlier. Please _don’t turn it on_ any earlier than Tokyo. That’s important. Don’t ask questions, don’t contact anyone, just board your flights and reach your destiny, understood?” Jae nods apprehensively. “Now, gimme your phone.”

The gun is still sitting between them.

Jae slowly reaches into his pocket to retrieve the phone. That’s when he sees the unread message displayed on his screen and Jae remembers: The one thing left to do.

“I’ll need—” he hastily explains but never finishes the sentence as he starts tipping the message.

The gun suddenly clicks.

Jae stops.

“We’re even,” Yoongi slowly says. “That’s what you told me in the church.” His eyes turn from sleepy to gleaming dangerously. The Daegu accent lies thick on his tongue. “I’ve thought long about what the heck you mean by that. And while I was waiting for you here—I suddenly got it. So, if I were you, I would quickly put that phone away and never send the message.”

“I don’t know—”

“If I call Namjoon right now, he’ll confirm that Taehyung has never reported back from the casino, right?” Yoongi cocks his right eyebrow.

Jae, in return, shakes his head. “I still don’t get what you’re onto—”

“You never told Namjoon what you’re going to do with that police inspector.”

“I used the police to find out who was out there killing me—” Jae scrambles to explain, but Yoongi, once again, doesn’t let him speak his lies.

“And then after you did, you still ran to that police officer and made deals with him.”

“That’s because I needed him to keep—”

“An eye on Namjoon? The police are currently at the Army, ready to barge in and arrest Namjoon and the rest of our boys. They are still waiting for your signal to start the raid because you could then be sure that _I_ have the chance to slip under the radar.”

And Yoongi got it all right. Eric is out there waiting for Jae to give him the go. Jae had promised him the head of Kim Namjoon, the current most powerful man in Korea, in exchange for his trust and friendship.

And a second identity once he arrives in the States because Jae sure as heck will vanish from Namjoon’s radar, too.

All of this with just one condition: Let Min Yoongi go. Back then Jae had asked Yoongi to help Younghyun to escape as well, but Jae changed directions once he discovered the truth about Younghyun’s traitorous plan. Yoongi still did him the favor and presented him fake identities in form of a small booklet that Jae had then gifted Younghyun a few hours later while breaking up with him.

Once Namjoon told Jae that Yoongi would be the one escorting him out of the country, Jae had started his research.

He was sitting in the hospital, doing his background research about Namjoon, when he stumbled over a few interesting facts about Namjoon _and_ Yoongi. Facts that will ultimately help him overcome that last hindrance: their loyalty to each other.

Jae licks over his still wet lips, tasting rain and blood.

“This could be your chance,” Jae starts and continues even though Yoongi opens his mouth to talk. “We’re not that different. You’ve travelled a long journey from Daegu to Seoul. It must be tiring, achieving your goal but being still as far away from it as back then in Daegu.”

His fingers touch the back of his phone to unlock the screen, finishing the message.

“I’d been wondering for years why Namjoon was so obsessed with Seunghyun’s label. He is already producing his own songs at his own company. I never really looked into it because why does it matter? But then, I did. And you know what I’ve found?”

Jae leans forward, nearly pressing against Yoongi’s gun. He looks directly into Yoongi’s eyes, meeting him at the same level.

“You came to this world to pursue the one thing you love. In the end, though, you were surrounded by all that darkness that you still struggle hard with. _People say, there's splendor in that bright light, but my growing shadow swallows me and becomes a monster._ That’s what you’ve written, right? Namjoon had always dreamt about becoming big with music but you, you only wanted to do just that: music. You had so many chances to run away from here, but you never did. This here is me giving you another chance. Do with it what you want.”

A lonely drop of water runs down along Jae’s cheek, whether it be tears or rain or sweat, who knows, but it still finds its way down to drop onto his hoodie. Then another and another, another…

The rain never lessened over the hours, a steady dripping, hitting the windows of a city painted with so much red. But even the rain can’t ever wash the red away, not when all that would be left is the darkness of the shadows lurking everywhere.

Time ticks by, achingly slow, but then Yoongi suddenly breathes heavily and puts the gun away. Jae allows himself a weak moment and slumps back into the seat with a relieved sigh. He quickly sends the message, thinks, then sends a second one afterwards to a different receiver.

Yoongi takes the phone tiredly from Jae. He looks at it, contemplates, then proceeds to look out of the window. “It won’t change anything, though. I have a reason why I stayed. If you want to leave this world, you’ll have to die. But dying is hard if you have something that you don’t want to leave behind.”

Jae remembers the saying all too good. His heart aches at the thought that the moment his flight leaves the airport, Park Jaehyung will be dead. He won’t ever be able to wear that name again, reach out to his old friends or find comfort in his past. He leaves everything behind in exchange for something that may be peace for his soul. It doesn’t matter much, though, since no matter what Jae does, Jae is dying.

If he stays, the shadows will him eat alive until nothing is left of the person he once used to be. If he leaves, his whole identity is stripped off of him and all that is left are memories that he bears with an aching heart. His shadow will always follow him around, his silent companion on his red path that then will never be painted red again.

Jae longs to escape the hands of the deep ocean just to see the shore again. He wants to be able to breathe again.

A high price to be paid for such a small thing that means the world to Jae.

“Don’t worry about them,” Jae smiles assuredly at Yoongi. “Even if Namjoon’s going to jail, he’ll be out within a few months. Especially if you are out there waiting for him.”

Yoongi scoffs quietly, laughing bitterly. “Honestly, it’s not Namjoon that I don’t want to leave behind.”

Loyalty is never bound to the person who stands at the top.

“I know,” Jae agrees.

Loyalty is obstinate and, most over, a choice. People don’t choose with whom they are falling in love with but if they follow them blindly. And then if they stay, no matter what.

Jae knows this. Tonight is the night that he chose to betray his loyalty.

That aching feeling of leaving something behind lingers heavily behind his ribs, making it nearly impossible to pick up the shards that was once his heart. He has been so close to finally reaching the surface—

“The airport isn’t that far anymore.”

When Jae looks out of the window, the sun starts to rise. The sky is painted with such beautiful hues of violet and pink, a sight that Jae wants to share so much with _him_.

“Why don’t you run away together?” Yoongi doesn’t bother to look away from the window. He only hums in an unspoken question. “That boy and you, why don’t you just run off? I can ask Eric to let him off the hook, too.”

Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles. “Better not. He loves his club too much to leave this city. Dancing is his passion just as much as music is mine.”

Jae smiles knowingly out of the window.

The sky is beautiful this time, even with the airplanes’ shadows tainting the view.

~~~

His knee had not once stopped whipping ever since he boarded that plane. He watched the clouds beneath the airplane, the sun rising and descending, the vast ocean beneath him. The sight was a pretty one, beautiful enough to take away his breath.

Warm fingers curled around his own during the flight. Even with all the tension that had suddenly risen between them, Jae was grateful for the small gesture of affection from his lover. Boyfriend. He tugged the younger’s hand to his lips and kissed them softly, both grinning shyly at each other.

They landed in the evening with the sun still up in the sky, but red was already ascending on the horizon. A pretty sight here in the airport of Incheon, something that Jae couldn’t appreciate long enough.

He sat patiently in the waiting lounge for Younghyun getting his and Sungjin’s luggage, listening attentively to the Korean lesson playing on his phone. That was until Sungjin suddenly sat by his side.

Jae jumped, still scared of the other man. Who could blame him for that? Sungjin looked scary with that shaved head and cold gaze. Jae was still waiting for the moment that Sungjin would finally get up and stick a knife into his chest.

He slowly tugged at his earphones to get them out and only then did Sungjin start to talk.

“The sky is very beautiful,” he spoke in broken English. Jae smiled lightly at that. The man tried and effort was one that Jae appreciated much.

“It’s okay, I’ve been studying Korean for the few last weeks,” Jae assured him in a lot less broken Korean.

Sungjin sighed in relief. “Thank god. I can put together a food menu on English, but that’s all that I can talk about.”

They both went back to watch the sunset through windows. The bustling around them lulls into an enjoyable silence, one that soon enough gets broken again by Sungjin.

What Jae liked about him was that Sungjin made the effort of not speaking in his usual satoori that Jae had a hard time understanding.

“I hope you’ll enjoy your new life in Seoul,” Sungjin spoke earnestly. His fingers were intertwined, his leg jumped up and down. “My guys are very nice and welcoming. We’re like a family and I’ll hope that you—and Younghyun by extension—find your place within us.”

It took Jae a few seconds to understand what Sungjin talked about but once he did, warmth started spreading through his chest.

“Thank you,” Jae mumbled shyly. “I appreciate it.”

“Ah, before I forget—” Sungjin suddenly held a small booklet in front of him. His warm smile encouraged Jae to take and inspect it. His eyes widened in surprise when he opened the first page. “I thought it’s probably very hard adjusting to this new life… at least like that, you can keep your name without a problem.”

Jae’s fingers skirted along the edge of his passport as he took in the freshly taken photo from days ago and smiled at the familiar characters of his name spelt in hangul. Only his grandmother had bothered to write his name in her mother tongue when giving him presents and cards. She was proud of him wearing the same name as his grandfather.

For Jae, this meant the world for all the time he would live in Seoul. His name was a last unburnt bridge to his roots and family. A memory to a proud grandmother who favored him instead of his big sister, always giving Jae the best of her food.

Today, though, that name doesn’t mean anything for Jae anymore. After years of living as a mobster that everyone knows as Park Jaehyung, his freedom entails getting rid of everything that is Park Jaehyung. Which includes his name.

But back then, his first few minutes in Korea, Sungjin gave him the freedom of keeping his name while offering him a new family, something Jae would always be grateful for. He then thought that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad living here.

He had Younghyun by his side, a nice boss who actually wouldn’t kill him if he only breathed in his direction, Wonpil that he would meet a week later and instantly take a liking to, and so many other people.

“Thank you,” Jae whispered and, in a weak and dumb moment, threw his arms around Sungjin.

(That day Jae learnt that Sungjin doesn’t like physical contact. At all.)

He felt Sungjin tensing in his arms but still, Sungjin only patted against Jae’s back to signal him to let go.

“Hyung, do my eyes deceive me?”

Jae was suddenly being shoved away from Sungjin. He was confused at first since he didn’t understand what the person had said to Sungjin and then because Sungjin actually blushed and threw another threatening gaze at someone behind Jae.

“What took you so long, Younghyun?” Sungjin sniffed at him and abruptly stood. He strived through the airport towards the exit, leaving Younghyun and Jae scrambling behind in a hurry.

Jae only looked at Younghyun, grinning brightly from one ear to another, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest. Not once had Younghyun looked at him in that airport because otherwise, Jae would have seen the lingering sadness in his eyes.

If Jae had only looked into his eyes, maybe then he wouldn’t have had to endure so much pain the following years.

Pride comes before the fall, but, in Jae’s case, it was his own innocence that made him blind enough to not see the cruel abyss.

~~~

The airport, even early in the morning, is bustling with people waiting for their upcoming flights to take off. Security is tight with every small thing being searched through, though for Jae, everything goes well. The fake ID isn’t looked at too closely, his luggage doesn’t weigh that much (somehow, they don’t bother with his gun), and even breakfast is taken care of thanks to the many shops behind the security.

He is currently sitting in the waiting lounge, stares at the screen with the soon-to-depart flights and whips his feet up and down. He reads the information again and again, having memorized them at this point, to get rid of all thoughts through the mind-numbing task.

Next flight goes to Paris, then five minutes later one to Jeju Island, then—

Boarding for the flight from Incheon to Tokyo only starts in half an hour, too much time left for him to do all the thinking. He has at least one and a half day of travelling before him, just like planned. His bag is packed with a tablet to watch movies—

(He found the tablet while unpacking his bag for the security check. A small note was attached to the top with a reminder of turning off flight mode once he arrives home and a smiley beneath it. Jae debated during his way from security to the breakfast shop who could make such a gift for him. When he turned the tablet on, a picture of Dowoon throwing hearts at him appeared, clearing all questions about its former owner.

Jae had smiled for the first time this morning.)

—a book he has always wanted to read and another one he recently bought (more like stolen from Sungjin) after a certain someone recommended it him.

(When Jae had first picked up the book and read the first paragraph, he hummed in surprise. The English was easily comprehensible instead of this pompous wording Shakespeare liked to write in. But what did he expect from a modern translation of a German novel?)

None of those things are appealing to him. Not when in an hour he will have left the country for good, leaving behind probably the best and worst part of his life in the hands of murderer. The clock ticks achingly slow and every second that passes could be more possibly wasted time in which Younghyun possibly dies.

“If you continue to look like a criminal fleeing from a crime scene, security will most probably kick you out of the airport.”

Jae whips his head around in surprise to see Sungjin sitting next to him as if it is his business sitting right here. It isn’t completely unexpected for Jae to see him since Jae has written him a message back in Yoongi’s car, but Sungjin surely took his time to come here.

“I was actually striving for a nervous college boy running away from his exams look,” Jae jokes half-heartedly.

Sungjin chuckles though. “You’re too old to be a college student. Your look might trick people into thinking you’re much younger.”

“What can I say? Wonpil always judges me for my passionate soap-love, but hey, as long as it works.”

The conversation fizzles out at this point, leaving behind two men sitting alone in the waiting area. A small child laughs in the background, an innocent sound that echoes through the walls of the room. A plane, the one headed to Paris, takes off behind the glass panels in front of them.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how fate decides for them to have this conversation again.

Sungjin eventually breaks the heavily loaded silence. “Kim Namjoon has officially been arrested by the police force. Inspector Nam will surely be called Chief in the future. He says thanks, by the way.”

A small smile plays around Jae’s mouth; one that immediately vanishes as he looks out to the runway. “He deserves it.”

Sungjin hums in agreement. “Maybe. I don’t know him that much. He’s smart, that’s for sure.” Jae is about to answer when Sungjin suddenly continues. “Meeting him for the first time reminded me of our first meeting. He had the same gleam in his eyes… well, nearly the same.” Jae slowly turns his head to Sungjin, sees the younger watching the sun rising over the horizon with eyes that show so much emotion. Sungjin, for maybe the first time since Jae has known him, looks vulnerable.

“Maybe it’s just the American flair,” Jae eventually says.

“Maybe,” Sungjin agrees. And then, all the sudden, he looks at Jae with a small smile. “There is this word that has been stuck with me for some time. I don’t know where I picked it up, but somehow I can’t forget about its explanation.”

“What word?”

“Entropy.”

Huh? Jae has heard of it before, he’s sure. But he doesn’t know from where or whom.

Sungjin takes a small breath and starts to explain, “Entropy is a property to measure chaos in a way. I don’t remember the specifics, but I’ve got it explained like this:

“If you meet another person, your whole world changes, even if it’s just minimal and barely noticeable. The other person is different, someone who disrupts your order. Your normal state. It’s exciting in a way, sweet because everything is new and different. At the same time, though, it’s chaos. Then you start to realize that you can’t go back to a time before you met this person. Because change happened and will always happen. It’s a beautiful concept, don’t you—”

Sungjin halts in his explanation as he finally looks at Jae again—Jae, whose eyes are locked to the floor, doubled in their size, because Jae remembers. He remembers when they were sitting in his bed after a long night full of kisses, Younghyun whispering words into his ears and explaining to him — entropy. Because Younghyun had heard that word during a lecture and suddenly decided to write a song instead of paying attention to the rest of seminar.

Younghyun, dear Younghyun, always so passionate about the things he loves. That carefree smile even when bad things happened because Younghyun had seen worse. That unbothered calmness even though Jae freaked out because for Younghyun, Jae was always more important than anything else in that moment. Younghyun who smokes too many cigarettes when stressed, Younghyun who plays the guitar for Jae even though he told him he stopped playing, Younghyun who bought him a house in the States because, according to Chan, that’s where he wanted to live with Jae until the end of their days.

Younghyun who had once described his world being in chaos after he’d met Jae because that’s what falling in love does to you.

The day Jae had met Younghyun, two worlds collided and disrupted the order of their lives.

Jae hadn’t been the only one struggling to adjust to the other’s world; Younghyun had also tried so hard to fit into the life Jae will always belong to. The only difference? Jae gave into the demon that tugged on his hand, gave in to the gravity pulling him into the sea just for the prospect of always being by Younghyun’s side.

“I guess I know then who told me about it.” Sungjin smirks because that’s what Sungjin does—always throwing things at Jae’s head that Jae only later realizes was done with full awareness of how they affect him. “Do you know what I thought about you when we had first met?”

It was raining that night, Jae remembers. The rain smelled heavy, even inside the café Jae was sitting in, waiting for his lover to finally arrive. The door opened, someone walked in, and when Jae looked up from his phone, ready to beam at Younghyun, he found someone else in front of him instead.

“That I’m an idiot?” Jae tries to joke but his voice is hoarse and ends up in a whisper accompanied by a grimace.

Sungjin chuckles lightly. “Only a little bit. You looked at me as if I was there to kill you.”

Because what else would you think when suddenly a stranger sat in front of you, head as bald as an eagle’s, a gaze as threatening as Younghyun looking at his prey, and an aura that screamed mobster at him? Sungjin back then was intimidating, so sue Jae if he was nearly shitting his pants, okay?

“You weren’t?”

“No, I would’ve been the idiot if I’d tried to,” Sungjin snorts. “Younghyun wouldn’t have let me see the next day. He always was like ‘Jae-hyung this, Jae-hyung that’. I really wanted to puke at how much he was waxing lyrical about you.”

Jae can imagine it but then, he can’t. Ever the poet that is luring inside Younghyun. Jae knows how much Younghyun needs his lyrics as an outlet for his innermost thoughts and feelings. Younghyun isn’t very vocal about such things and lets them slide by if he can, so him gushing about Jae is a very warming thought. Warming but nearly impossible.

“You make it sound like he had the biggest crush on me,” Jae sniffs, leaning back in his seat and burying his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Sungjin hums. “I wouldn’t say biggest crush. More like head over heels, fallen right into the pit of your gravity.” And all the sudden, Sungjin’s joking tone vanishes, replaced by a fatherly seriousness that he has always possessed. “He always talks about you as if you are the sole purpose of his existence. I never understood and even now… Younghyun is dying so you can finally find some peace.”

As if Jae isn’t fully aware of it, the burdening knowledge that he messed this up. Big time. Biggest time ever. Regret is so hard pooling in his stomach, dragging down every ounce of happiness that he could have ever possessed.

“I never understood,” Sungjin continues, unbothered by the shadows falling over Jae’s face. “But when we first met, you and I, hyung, you know what I thought? I thought, _this man is going to be our downfall._ ”

Jae’s head snatches up at Sungjin’s little admission.

“Wh—What do you mean?”

“I saw something in you. You are stubborn, so much that you’re a pain in the ass, but you’re smart. Unbelievably smart. And I thought, if I get this man’s trust, if I win his loyalty, then claiming Seoul for me would be a cakewalk. And then I realized, I’m never going to have your loyalty because all you talked about in our first meeting was Younghyun. That was all that ever counted. Even when I saved your ass from the bad guys, gave you a new home and a new family, all you ever focused on was Younghyun.”

Jae shakes his head. “But what does it have to do with your downfall?”

Another new first time for Jae as Sungjin settles deeper into his seat, leaning his head against the backrest and sighing heavily.

“This whole thing here that I have—the Six, the casino, the clubs—all of that is built upon the blood of one family: the Kangs.”

Oh. Right. Jae remembers the little conversation where Younghyun confessed to him, showed him the pictures of a happy family that hadn’t been happy at all. Jae remembers the relief on Younghyun’s face when he told him that his father is dead.

Sungjin sighs again. “People in Seoul are traditional, especially the elders. They told me that if I kill the current boss, I can be the new one. So, I did. But then they told me that they want Younghyun on the throne. So, I searched for Younghyun and to be honest, I considered killing him too. But I knew Younghyun. Younghyun didn't want that throne. He just wanted to be as far away from this as you. And when I met you, I knew… You’re going to steal the loyalty of the one man who was the key to my success.”

Jae takes a moment to let things set in. Turns every stone at least twice, searching for—

He should stop doing that. This is part of the old Jae who always searches for the weakness in people’s tales. He doesn’t need to do so anymore. The place where he is headed to is full of peaceful people. Far away from all the bad things happening in Seoul’s underworld.

Yet, Jae thinks and he wonders, “What changed? Younghyun never got on the throne.”

A small smile tugs on Sungjin’s lips. “Younghyun went to those old men and shot them in the face. And the rest who survived the massacre then knew that Kang Younghyun would never sit on the throne.” He then hums, wistfully, “Fear is a powerful weapon, isn’t it?”

The many different faces of Kang Younghyun, indeed. A person who so desperately searches for his own destiny, finds it in a world beyond his reach and is still so caught up in his own darkness—Peace comes to those who deserve it.

Jae is sure that neither of them does anymore.

What is left is to learn to live with the shadow that follows them until the end of their lives. Just try to reach for the sun and get burnt, but the shadow will only grow bigger. Only the sea beneath will catch your fall.

For all that they are different, Jae and Younghyun, they are similar in many facets. They both strive for that same life that they can never achieve, one that is doomed even from the beginning.

( _A life wherein their love is able to bloom into something wonderful_.)

His fingers ball into a fist. Jae clenches his teeth. “Sungjin—”

“ _Attention please, passengers for flight 1219 to Tokyo, boarding starts now at gate 33.”_

Sungjin clasps a hand over Jae’s shoulder, pushing him lightly out of his seat. “What are you waiting for? Your flight’s going soon.”

Jae grasps desperately for Sungjin’s hand, ignoring the light flinch that the younger does. “Sungjin, I have to—”

It only takes one look from Sungjin, a gleam in his eyes, that Jae shuts up.

“Don’t worry, hyung. Board that flight and finally go home.”

“But Young—”

“Like I said,” Sungjin presses kindly with a blooming smile. “Don’t worry and go. I'll take care of everything.” And then he pushes Jae again into motion, giving him his bag, waving with a beam on his face.

They don’t say farewell. That’s not their style. Even with all of their ups and downs, Jae’s resentment toward the younger who was his boss for such a long time, he knows that he will always cherish their laughter in that small restaurant that old ahjumma owns.

Sungjin became his brother down the line, and even if Jae sometimes can’t appreciate him for that, he is grateful for all the good things that he had done for him.

“Thank you, Sungjin. Thank you for everything.”

~~~

Colors.

Younghyun remembered, his fingers pressed against the glass, that Jae had always liked looking out of his window, looking down to the city. But Younghyun also remembered — Jae loved colors ever since he arrived in Seoul. He would look at paintings with the wildest concepts, abstract and full of expressions, and then buy them on a whim.

Because he liked the colors, he would explain with a small smile.

And here Younghyun was, wondering why Jae would always look down to a city so full of grays and blacks when the sky was filled with so many different colors. Even in the middle of the day, the infinite blue that extended to everywhere Younghyun’s eyes could reach was so beautiful.

If Jae was looking up to the sky, would they see the same stars?

His fingers pressed further onto the glass, looking up to the sky that Jae would look at every day for years, and Younghyun wondered if Jae had the same thought as him. Was it selfish of him to hope that maybe yes, Jae couldn’t stop thinking about him as much as Younghyun did about Jae?

The room was empty with the furniture and paintings all missing. Nothing was left behind, not even a hair could be found after the clean-up guys did their job. Then everything would be like Jae hadn’t lived here for years. As if Jae had never even existed.

Younghyun had pleaded with Wonpil to let him in here for a last time before Younghyun could never get the chance again. He wanted to say his farewell to a place that he hadn’t ever visited as anything more than an… acquaintance of Jae. His bodyguard. His doorkeeper. But not once as his lover.

Yet, this place was filled with so many different memories. Jae sitting on a chair in the kitchen, eating peacefully while reading his mails; Jae staring out of the window while his game on his phone wasn’t paused and he was losing; Jae lying in bed, looking like the young boy Younghyun had met him as, no trace of the darkness lingering behind his eyes; Jae playing the guitar, lost in the music and his own voice as much as Younghyun who was staring at him from his spot behind the door.

So many stolen moments that would stay like that forever; stolen from their time that should have been spent together. Younghyun shouldn’t have been watching Jae from afar, he should have been right there next to him, planting kisses on his skin as silent promises of never leaving him.

Again.

His fingers slowly glided down the glass, leaving the cold surface. He heard steps behind him slowly approaching him as if Younghyun would bolt like a frightened deer. Or maybe not. He didn’t know what he’d do. Wonpil probably didn’t either.

“We have to go, hyung. Jae is waiting for me—”

“I know,” Younghyun interrupted Wonpil quietly. “I know. Just—I need a moment. A minute, promise.”

The city looked so sad that day, but maybe it was only Younghyun projecting his own thoughts and feelings onto it. His fingers found their way back to his inner pocket, embracing the object placed in there.

Wonpil was suddenly standing next to him, watching Younghyun instead of the city as Wonpil always did. Never watching the world around him but the people broken within. No wonder that Jae had taken a liking to the younger.

“Younghyun-hyung, you don’t have to do this. Sungjin can find a different way—”

“It’s okay, Wonpil. It’s okay.” Younghyun licked over his lips, taking the object out of his pocket. The edges are lightly frayed, the cover stained with coffee, but it looked endearing to Younghyun. You don’t judge a book by its cover, Younghyun mused, it’s important what could be found inside. “I know it sounds strange but… I’ve found my peace with it.”

Wonpil snorted disbelievingly. “You’re the first person to ever tell me that they’re okay with dying. And I killed a lot of people in my life.”

“Because it wasn’t their decision. You are a hitman, of course people fear death when they see you. I was given a chance. Sungjin didn’t come to me and told me to die, he asked if I want to. And when he explained that Jae had come up with this plan—” Younghyun chuckled, defeated. His eyes were glassy, fixating on the small book between his fingers. “I think Jae’s right. One of us has to die, only then we can finally find some peace.”

And suddenly, Wonpil was grabbing his shoulder, an expression so earnest and serious reflected on his face that Younghyun felt flustered at the emotion charged in the air.

“That’s ridiculous. We aren’t in a Korean drama nor are we Romeo and Julia. You guys are so blind to each other that you don’t see what really matters.”

Now Younghyun was laughing again, this time more desperate than defeated. “I was blind before, that’s what got us into this mess. If I could, I would turn back time and take everything back. If we haven’t met, then—maybe then he would have been happy. He can only become happy again without me.”

“See, you’re blind.” Wonpil poked his finger against Younghyun’s forehead, smiling warmly. “We can’t turn back time, we can’t take back words that were spoken and memories that were made. I have been by Jae-hyung’s side for so long, I’ve seen his shards, his dreams, his wishes—and hyung, let me say… He sounded so happy when he called from Ilsan. He even boasted about how often you guys did it.”

“He did what—”

“And he admitted that he will always be loyal to you. Plus, he didn’t deny once that he doesn’t love you. In case you were wondering.”

Younghyun wasn’t. Maybe a little bit. Okay, he was wondering about that. He had seen Jae looking at him like _that_ , you know, as if Younghyun could be the answer to the rest of his life. But getting conformation on the fact that Jae loved him, Younghyun’s heart fluttered warmly in chest.

Yet, Younghyun sighed deeply, hitting his forehead against the glass. “What am I doing, Wonpil?”

It didn’t take him long to answer as Wonpil already knew everything he had to. “You’re both idiots, that’s what you’re doing.”

Colors.

Younghyun remembered, his forehead still pressed against the window, that Jae loved the song Younghyun had written about colors. About falling into darkness and hoping to be painted by his colors, just as bright as a sunset.

Deep inside, with his whole heart, Younghyun wished that Jae’s fascination with colors all originated from the simple lines that Younghyun had once written.

The book felt heavy between his fingers, its cover old and worn, but the words inside, they told stories of his own heart. They were written in pain and agony, in happiness and contentment, in hazy and warm filled love. They supported him through dark times, elevated him to the sky where he could reach for the sun again. No matter how much he burnt his wings, Younghyun would never stop reaching for the sun that was Jae.

Not when the sun felt warm on his skin, kissing him with all love and passion Younghyun could ever find in a lifetime.

“Can you do me a favor?” And Younghyun suddenly held the book out for Wonpil to take. A small smile played around his lips, filled with sadness and yet so much happiness as the sun shone behind his frame. “Can you give this to Jae?”

Wonpil, slowly mirroring his expression, took the book and pressed it tightly against his chest. “Of course.” His gaze didn’t waver, not once, and his own smile kept so much happiness despite the grief lingering in the air. “Don’t worry, hyung. Everything will be alright again.”

It sounded like a promise Younghyun was tempted to make but knew he wouldn’t be able to keep.

Younghyun is glad that he had then looked out of the window for a last time again. He said his last goodbyes to Jae in his mind, to the place he lived in, to the city he won’t ever see again.

Younghyun is glad that he had then sat down with Dowoon und Chan for a last meal that Dowoon urged him to eat until the last bite while looking all smiles and hopes whereas Younghyun slowly felt numb.

Jae made it so much harder for him to leave when he told him with so much fondness that he will miss him, made it so much harder when he kissed him good-bye for a last time and dried Younghyun’s tears from his cheeks.

Numbness is all he has felt for the last hours.

He didn’t care what happened to him.

He still doesn’t care what will happen to him.

Younghyun is torn in every way. His mind had long come to terms with the fact that he will die in a few minutes. His heart is still screaming at him to run after Jae and tell him, ask him, plead with him to take him back. The knife tears his body apart, stuck in his chest, blood slowly dripping out of the wound.

Is this how Jae felt like years ago?

Lying in the streets of Seoul, watching the rain dripping onto him while the city looked down upon him?

Because Younghyun suddenly understands. His eyes slowly lose their focus when he stares at the sky, not feeling the pain anymore, only a faint ache in his heart as he couldn’t say an appropriate farewell to the one person that mattered.

If he could turn back time, Younghyun would do so much differently.

He would say ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’, he would say ‘I love you’ and ‘stay’, he would—he would…

Then he wouldn’t die on the streets of Seoul.

And while he slowly exhales his last breath and a blurred shadow suddenly hovers in his sight, just before everything turns black, his last thought belongs to Jae.

Always Jae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff, so... next chapter's gonna be the last one, huh? Jae is finally gone and Younghyun... yeah, well. Who knows what happened to him. I kinda played with the thought of ending it here, but... I dunno, I didn't feel right.
> 
> The quote that Jae cited during his conversation with Yoongi is btw from Yoongi's solo 'Shadow'. The song and also the whole concept of persona and shadow and ego is something that hugely inspired me in this story. I could write paragraphs about it, but I spare you of my rant.
> 
> Next week - Outro: Dye me like the red sunset light so that you won't lose me


	17. Outro: Dye me like the red sunset light so that you won't lose me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title by Day6 - Colors
> 
> I love 'Colors'. It's my favorite Day6 song and when I heard it at the concert, I was crying because it was so beautiful with all the colorful lights in the audience.
> 
> Anyways! This is the last chapter! What a long ride, huh? Three months for something that took me like six months to write? I remember, I started writing it after the Entropy comeback and finished the first rough version around Demon comeback when I started to upload it.
> 
> I put in a lot of thoughts and small details in there that I always wish to explain but then I don't want to 'cause I don't want to take away the magic or such. (Like, not gonna lie, I got a lot of inspiration from BTS Wings/BS&T and the Persona rap-line solo songs). I just-- idk, if you want to know anything, hit me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ordernchaos2) and slide into my DMs or such.
> 
> (On a side-note: This is fiction, I'm no doctor, take everything with a grain of salt and just accept magic, ha ha. Plus, if there's the wrong pronoun for our therapist then that's because I made a last-minute change to the character!)

The oppressing sound of the organ echoes through the wide halls of the Lord’s house. The sun peaks in through the windows, painting an all too familiar picture for Jae. Colors fill the vast halls of a small chapel on a hill, designed to barely contain half of the town’s population.

Jae raises his head towards the ceiling. His face is bathed in different colors, yet… they feel lacking. His fingers are intertwined in a prayer, his lips whispering small pleads and promises. The shadow behind him grows with the rising sun, and hours fly by.

At least, it feels like hours.

The chapel is empty, not a priest to be found. Jae prefers for it to be empty, so he can tell his prayers in silence without his conscience dragging him down due to the blood shed on his path. All the sins he committed Jae pleads for to be forgiven, but yet, the lord never answers.

He never has. And he never will be. It’s frustrating, Jae knows, but it’s his punishment. He doesn’t deserve to be heard by such a pure existence when he can’t see through all the darkness of his own hands.

“I’m proud of you.”

Jae ignores the voice. He is tired of hearing him, exhausted deep to his bones to hear the words of dead people. Of a dead person. One person.

“You can visit the church without being reminded by the bloodbath months ago.”

Ignoring a nagging voice is so hard, especially when it fills his body with so much longing and his heart with so much pain. The words hurt him painfully where he has already started to heal, only to break down further and further.

Jae had ripped himself into pieces, torn down his whole existence and identity to ask himself: Who does he want to be? Who does he want to become?

Park Jaehyung is dead. Died when he boarded that plane to Tokyo and never arrived at the destination; instead coming to Japan as some foreign Korean and leaving as someone entirely else.

“I’m glad that you are able to find peace—”

“Can you shut up for a second?!” Jae finally loses it. He is breathing hard after his sudden shout, angry that he got interrupted in his prayer, desperate for the person to leave. “Can you finally leave me the fuck alone?” His lips tremble to keep his frown, his eyes water as he tries not to cry. Not again. He has already spent so many nights filled with silent tears and so many regrets.

“Look at me, Jae,” the person pleads with him softly. Jae is weak for that voice, weaker than ever. The deep and soft tone that hold so much fondness—Jae misses it so much.

“No,” he says instead and studiously keeps his gaze at his hands.

“Please, hyung.”

Jae sniffs to keep the tears in and gives up suppressing the tremble that shakes up his body. He slowly turns his head to the other person, trying not to break down at the sight of such intense eyes.

“Was it that hard?”

Yes, because Kang Younghyun is still so pretty, even when he is only a memory speaking to him. A ghost that never leaves Jae and always lingers behind. A voice that whispers in the darkness of the night, that awakes him as soon as dawn arrives, that calms him when the sun stands bright above him, that torments him when it sets for the night.

Rinse and repeat.

For months.

But it doesn’t change how beautiful the sight of Kang Younghyun is. His eyes are intense, his lips smiling so fondly. Jae feels his breath leaving him as he stares abashedly at the sheer beauty in front of him.

Younghyun’s dark or red or blond—Jae can’t tell anymore because every time he blinks the color changes – hair flows in the wind along the petals of a tree—

“Until death will part us, but I think I will love you even beyond that,” Younghyun whispers into the silence, watching spring’s little play.

“You shouldn’t,” Jae counters with a grimace and stops himself from reaching out for the hand. His body feels calm again as it takes in the fresh air of the park, and his skin soaks in the blinding shine of the sun.

It is Younghyun’s hand that finds his instead. His fingers should feel warm, Jae thinks, and suddenly they are. As warm as he remembers them to be.

“Why?”

Even with spring in full blaze and the sun so bright, Jae feels cold. The wind isn’t cold though, the bench he sits on isn’t cold too—and yet, Jae feels cold.

“Because you don’t love me like that.”

Younghyun cocks his head. He looks so young, so pretty. His skin is lightly tanned from all the American sun but when in Seoul, it turned lighter. Jae can’t decide on what his skin tone should be.

“Like what?” Younghyun asks like a child full of wonder and innocence. Jae chuckles at the pure sight, choking on his own laugh as reality sets in.

“As if you would die for me.”

The beep is slow and steady. A rhythm created by the human’s most precious organ, something so frightfully fragile and weak despite working so hard and longing for so much. The heart rate monitor shows a steady sign, a healthy body connected to it.

Younghyun’s skin looks ashen with his black hair fanned on the pillow. His eyes are tired and still so intense, his gaze never wavers from Jae’s standing form next to the bed.

“Is that wrong?” Younghyun’s voice is hoarse and only a whisper. It has lost all innocence and sounds so tired instead. Jae slowly nods. “Why?” Younghyun asks again.

“Because—” Jae swallows hard, the rhythm of the heart monitor taking up its pace. “—because I don’t want you to die. Not for me.”

Younghyun smiles. Younghyun always smiles. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Jae closes his eyes. He knows what comes. He knows the old dance of what is going to be said.

“You asked me to die—” And Jae tears his eyes open at the sudden warmth between his cramping fingers. “—and I did. For you.”

Younghyun looks up to him with open eyes, veins painting the white red. His face grays further and lips turn blue as Jae presses his throat harder, choking on any further words he could say. Jae feels Younghyun’s body trembling beneath him, fighting his body off.

“I’m so sorry,” Jae sobs as his limbs won’t move or stop. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He repeats it again and again, watching Younghyun’s life slowly fading away. His tears stain the porcelain like skin, running down as blood along his jaw, painting everything a deep red.

“I’m so sorry.”

He even says it while drowning, floating through the dark waters to reach for Younghyun beneath him. A corpse can’t swim but Jae can, and he tries to save what is left of Younghyun. He reaches out for his hand but can’t get to him, not when water cages his body in and steals everything from his heart to his breath.

Jae is drowning again, as it has always been.

A sinner doesn’t deserve the sun nor the beautiful colors of the world.

And all the sudden—

Jae awakes with a startle and can’t catch his breath with the nightmare lingering in his head. His hand scrambles to the small table next to his bed, throwing things onto the carpet until he finds the small box and a bottle of water.

His trembling fingers get the pills into his mouth, the water feels like acid on his tongue, but Jae takes it over everything than his night terrors. Everything is better than his night terrors.

At least they got better with time.

Tonight is not the worst of it. Tonight is okay. Especially when he lays back into the pillow and falls into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

A can of tomatoes? Maybe. Minced meat? Already in his basket. Fresh herbs, some pasta and garlic, and Jae is ready for another simple dish today. He looks around the supermarket. Maybe he should buy a few snacks to eat in between his meals.

The supermarket is empty around the middle of the day since most people in the town work at that time. Today is Jae’s day off that he very much enjoys by trying out a new recipe he found on the internet (cooking for beginners, or, as the author labelled it, nothing can go wrong dishes. Jae’s Lasagna was a good hit for his first try, so cooking a simple Spaghetti Bolognese couldn’t be that hard, right?) and for that he needs to buy the missing ingredients.

_“How is life going for you so far?”_

_“…Good.”_

At the checkout, Jae greets the guy who lives down the street, an older man with a wife and two kids, who owns the small garage where Jae brought his rusty vehicle to a few days ago. The guy informs him about the mechanic works, winks when he tells Jae about the good deal he got for the repair parts and shakes his head when Jae tells him that money is no problem for him.

Really. Jae has enough of it and he gladly spends it for honest work nice people do for him.

_“What were you up to today?”_

_“Went to the supermarket, talked to my mechanic, cooked pasta—”_

Carless, Jae walks the way back home. He enjoys the soft sunrays warming his skin, the warm rustling of his thick hoodie that brings with it the salty smell of the ocean. Soft waves hit the shore from afar and yet Jae can hear it even here, a sound that heals his wounds deep inside.

_“No walk along the beach?”_

_“No. Maybe later.”_

His house sits at the end of a cul-de-sac. The town is small. It has enough citizen to not be considered a village but not enough to be classified as a real city. It has some suburban vibes to it with a lot of lawns and greens and paths to the beach. The winters are warm, very different from the freezing temperatures of Seoul where it even snowed on colder days.

Here in California winters are as warm as soft spring breezes in Korea. Here in California life is more laid-back than in Korea.

Jae opens the door to his house and enters with full hands and his mail safely stacked into his mouth. He sets down his groceries on his rather small kitchen counter and goes through the mail.

It’s only the usual, a bunch of bills that come with the start of the month, a lot of advertisements, a new pizza place that opened next to the beach and offers free delivery, and a postcard that puts a smile on his face.

A simple new year greeting from Seoul with no signature at all, but Jae doesn’t need it as he could recognize Wonpil’s handwriting anywhere.

_“You look happier today.”_

_“Some friend wrote me a postcard and wished me a happy new year.”_

_“Ah, I forgot that it’s Seollal this week. Happy new Year, Jae.”_

Cooking pasta is as easy as the recipe promises it will be, it tastes fine, and now Jae is throwing himself onto his bed headfirst, regretting it immediately.

With a huff he raises his head to retrieve the glasses from his nose and throws them on his side-table. The glasses clink against the open bottle of pills that tumbles over, spilling the white medicine everywhere.

Jae doesn’t care about it. He only closes his eyes to get a few calm minutes, just to regain some of his missing energy. The lack of good sleep is exhausting him. He strains his ears to listen for the sound of the waves, lulling him into a sleepy daze.

It doesn’t take long until his phone suddenly chimes. Jae hastily retrieves it from his pants to shut off the alarm, reminding him of his appointment in the afternoon. An appointment to which he has to walk to since his car is in repair.

He groans when he sits up in his bed. He groans louder when he sees the mess on the floor. Collecting the pills is a bother, an untidy room is an even bigger bother. He picks up each of them and then shoves them into the drawer of his table, only that he halts and sees the content of said drawer.

The glint of glass and metal catches instantly his eye. The white powder stands in hard contrast to the dark color of the furniture. Jae’s heart flutters in excitement and fear at the same time as his mind runs through the process of longing for and fighting against it.

_“But are you sure it’s because of your friend?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“So you didn’t take any drugs again?”_

_“No.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yes.”_

He shuts the drawer with one hard shove and makes to leave, but then his ears hear the flutter of pages and his eyes find the source. A simple notebook laying on the floor. Jae lets it rest there for now.

Instead, he walks through the streets again, greeting the neighbors he meets, shaking off every attempt of casual talk since he has some important business to attend, and everybody smiles at him with no ulterior motive.

It’s the sound of the beach again, waves crashing, nothing happening at all.

Jae lives in California now. Far away from Seoul and all the bad things that he left behind. Months have passed ever since he boarded that flight to Tokyo with an one-way ticket, leaving the burden of being Park Jaehyung and embracing the life of… Jae Park.

(He’s Asian, c’mon, half of South Korea is called Park. At least he took off that -hyung part from his first name. Strangely enough it sounds just like he feels: torn into pieces without a chance of ever being one again.)

Joshua, a nice and young man, looks into his eyes and searches for any sign. His notebook lies open in his lap, notes written in a messy handwriting that is even worse than Wonpil’s, something that is totally illegible to Jae.

“Do a drug-test if you don’t believe me,” Jae sniffs when Joshua stares holes into his face.

He shakes his head. “No, no need. I believe you.” He crosses his legs and leans back in his armchair, watching Jae with hawk eyes. Jae squirms in his seat on the sofa, averting his gaze from him to the window on his right. “What about last night? Did you sleep well?”

“Sure.”

“Jae.” His commanding tone makes Jae turn his head back towards him, blinking at the no-nonsense expression put on his face. “We’ve gone through this last time and the time before and the time before. _You_ came _to me_ because you want help and I can only help you if you are being honest with me. I’m writing your prescriptions for the sleeping pills and you just bought a new one last week.”

“Maybe I lost the bottle,” Jae shrugs it off with a very unconvincing lie and Joshua knows it.

“Jae, you have things you need to talk about. That’s what you told me when you called me. That’s why I’m here. I only listen to what is burdening you.”

“You ask many questions for someone who is only listening.”

Joshua sighs. “And you are just deflecting. Listen, what you tell me here stays here, doctor-patient confidentiality and such like that. You can trust me.”

Instead, Jae watches him for a few seconds and contemplates, just like he always does. He eventually asks, “How’s Eric?”

It’s disbelief that is written on Joshua’s face as he huffs an unamused laughter. “I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Jae shrugs. “Eric gave me your number because he thought I may need it. You were friends in college, right? I bet on of you even had a crush on the other—”

“I won’t hurt you. I’m your therapist. You have a few traumatic years behind you, and I want to help you to heal.”

Joshua looks earnestly at him, smiling to win over Jae’s trust, but Jae’s just—

Trusting people just like that, even if they are his therapist, neighbor, friends or whatever, Jae just can’t do this. He isn’t able to let himself fall into that lull of normal life where he wakes up, goes to work, makes dinner, goes to sleep, rinse and repeat.

His life is… boring.

Yes, Jae had wanted boring. Boring meant that he no longer has to fear for his life, has to fear for someone else’s life, has to fear for taking a life. It’s nice, more than nice, to live like that. Something dark was taken off his shoulders.

The problem, though, is just that switching from dangerous Seoul to boring Californian town isn’t as easy as he has initially thought it to be.

(At least LA is only about an hour by car, so that’s that.)

Seoul was exciting in a way that every day was different than the next. You never knew what tomorrow had in store for you. You didn’t look back. You lived the moment. Here, Jae goes through the same motions again, again, and again. He is tired. He isn’t sleeping without nightmares (if he is sleeping at all) and getting used to the empty halls of his house is hard, too.

No more people barging into his home and being loud. No more inedible seaweed soup, no more prying maknaes, no more commanding Sungjins. Only Jae and… the calm waves of the beach.

No more dark oceans.

(Why can’t he still breathe?)

“What was it tonight?” Joshua tries again. This time, his voice has lost its firmness and melted into warm honey coaxing him into talking.

With a loud sigh, Jae slides down in his seat and stares at the ceiling.

Joshua is nice. He is a good listener since he gets paid to do so, but he also gives a lot of good advices. The best of them are the sleeping pills. Without said sleeping pills, Jae wouldn’t have caught a wink of sleep in ages.

But Joshua also keeps an eye on him. He has regular drug check-ins with him ever since he nearly overdosed (again, Wonpil would be mad at him) weeks ago. As a result, Joshua increased his number of appointments from one to two in two weeks without billing him for that.

( _“He’s an old friend of mine,” Eric had said. “He could help you to keep an eye on you. I mean, the things I’ve seen are bad but you? You must be worse off.”_

 _If Eric only knew how right he was on that day at that rooftop, sipping on beer, maybe then Jae would have known better to appreciate the small card sitting in his pocket._ )

After minutes staring at the ceiling Jae sighs again, sitting up, yet still slouching in his seat.

“I was in a church,” he eventually starts without looking at Joshua, averting his eyes from the encouraging smile. “Praying, obviously. It was in the chapel up on the hill, not the church in Seoul this time. There was no one in there. It was… nice.”

“But?” Joshua injects when Jae hesitates.

“But _he_ was there. Again.” Jae picks at a loose thread of his holed Jeans. The dream is still fresh in his mind, clear as a picture, but Younghyun’s face is only a ghost of his memory. He can’t grasp the details as if they are blurred. Younghyun’s beauty is only an abstract concept to him now.

“Brian?”

“Yes—no—I mean, Brian was there. Younghyun. He was there.” His voice reverberating through the wide halls of the chapel, piercing right through Jae’s mind and heart. A soft flutter against his chest, a feeling of being alive and dying at the same time. “He was talking to me. I—I don’t remember what.”

Jae remembers it clearly.

“And then?” Joshua meticulously takes notes in his book, the soft scribble filling the silence in the air.

“We were in a park. Talking. Holding hands. And then we weren’t in the park anymore.”

“The park—” Joshua chimes in softly. “—Was it some random park or some place of your memory?”

“I—I guess?” Petals flowing around them as Younghyun looks down at him, Jae’s book loose in his hand, a soft peck to motivate Jae to read further since he has a lecture soon— He remembers the park. Vividly. Jae shakes his head though. “I don’t know. The scenery changed so fast to the hospital and then—”

His hands around a throat, pressing in, skin gray as ash. Drowning. There is no air for him to breathe.

“What happened then?” Joshua’s voice cuts through the colorless pictures of his mind. Jae tears his gaze up to his, grounding himself with the soft yet still distant look in Joshua’s eyes.

“I don’t know anymore.”

The scribbling stops for a moment before it resumes again. Maybe Joshua is starting to pick up on his lies. Maybe he is able to see more than him. Jae will never know.

“How did you feel when you woke up?” The question seems to be easy, but still, it is laden with so much meaning that Jae needs to swallow for a moment.

“I took a sleeping pill.”

“Because you panicked?” Jae nods. Joshua hums. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Jae barks a laughter. “Isn’t it personal the whole time?” Joshua only grounds him with a look. “Shoot.”

He watches how Joshua flitters through his pages, tracing lines with his fingers, lost in his thought for a moment. All just to stall the question and catch Jae’s attention, he notices. It doesn’t lessen the impact of the question at all.

“What happened to Younghyun?”

A simple question, easy cheesy, really. Only that this is the one-million-dollar question for Jae. What happened to Younghyun? Because even after months the answer is as simple as the question: Jae doesn’t know. Wonpil never writes a word about Younghyun in his post cards and other than that, Jae doesn’t get any clues on what is happening over there. He left his old life behind.

He left Younghyun behind.

What happened to Younghyun? If only Jae could know—

“Younghyun seems to mean much to you. You talk about him fondly but distantly, as one does about an ex-lover. But you sound grieving at the same time which makes me wonder; is he only an ex-lover or is there more to him?”

Jae smiles bitterly at him. “You impress me. You pick up on small things and hit the nail on its head but are still missing it.”

Joshua leans forward. “What am I missing, Jae? I can only assume things if you don’t give me the clues to solve this puzzle.”

“And which puzzle are you trying to solve?” he counters back.

Joshua searches his face for something, again, staring holes into it, until he eventually leans back in his seat and regards him sternly. “The mystery of what is tormenting the great Jae Park.”

“I’m not that great.”

“Why, though?”

Jae huffs a laughter, bitterer than before, wet in anger. “I’m an ex-mobster who is responsible for many people’s deaths.”

There it is, the uncomfortable truth. That’s the moment where Joshua has to call the police and hand him over on a silver plate. Jae deserves to rot in hell, that’s where he belongs to and not in some peaceful paradise.

But when Jae looks up to see the disgust on Joshua’s face, all he finds is the smug smile of someone who’s tricked him into talking.

“Did you really think I didn’t know that?” Joshua chuckles in triumph. “I was only waiting for the moment you finally admit it.” He closes the book after a short glance to the clock at the wall that ticks closer to the end of their session. “We’ve made a lot of progress today,” he happily says after he jumps up from his seat, ushering Jae out of the door since he is still mulling over his reaction.

At the door the smirk returns on his face as he says with a wink, “And Eric’s doing good over there after his promotion to chief inspector.”

~~~

The most beautiful time of the day is when the sun starts to set and dunks the living room into several hues of red and orange. Jae opens the screen to step out to his veranda, taking a deep breath to smell the salty seawater in the air.

When Jae had first viewed the house, he fell in love with the outlook immediately. The beach isn’t that afar, so you can hear the faint sound of waves breaking onto the sand and smell the salty air. The water gleams in the sunlight and when the sun sets, everything looks like out of a catalogue for vacation destinations.

Sunset is Jae’s favorite time of the day and ever since he lives here, he takes his time to watch the sun set before darkness settles in.

Beautiful but terrifying, nonetheless. You’ll never know if today is the last day you are able to see the sun. The night is dark and the darkest hours only shortly before dawn. Every morning Jae takes a relieved breath once he realizes he has survived yet another day.

This sunset again, Jae settles down in his hammock and rocks back and forth, taking in the beautiful scene before him. Even though it is the same thing as every other day, its beauty will never be lost on Jae.

His fingers fiddle with the notebook in his lap that he picked up from his bedroom floor. The cover is used and stained with some dirty spots, the edges are frayed, worn from being used for years.

Just like he always does, a part of an evening ritual, he opens a random page and reads through the many short lines, some words erased and some crossed out, some are trailed off thoughts but a lot of them came out of _his_ heart.

Today’s page name is simple. The lyrics are simple. But when Jae reads through the first lines, his heart clenches at the painful memory that those simple words conjure up. He feels as if being caught in a dream where he lies in a bed, watches him playing guitar on his balcony, singing softly along to the sad chords.

His finger glides along the lines as his inner voice sings along until Jae utters the lines under his breath, softly in a whisper, scared that if someone hears him the magic of those words will be gone forever.

Jae had found the notebook when he was unpacking his suitcases after moving into the house. At first, he shrugged it off since it was familiar enough and so, it rested a few days between his other books on the shelf. Until Jae remembered that it wasn’t his to begin with but Younghyun’s long loved notebook.

To this day he doesn’t know how the book found its way into his things (he has a theory though, one that involves a certain kind-hearted hitman who loves to meddle with him), yet he is happy enough to have it. More than happy. He cherishes this notebook as his most treasured belonging.

(A last memory of feelings left behind.)

Just as he is about to turn the page and start another song, a voice cuts through his dream-like state and brings him back to reality.

“You should really consider playing in that bar downtown.”

Jae looks up from the book over to the fence where his neighbor is leaning against it, smiling sheepishly at him since he has just confirmed of listening in to Jae’s singing. Even that is part of Jae’s everyday life routine – he watches the sunset, sings Younghyun’s songs under his breath and his neighbor snoops around in hopes of catching Jae red-handed at composing.

(“Just in case you become a superstar. Because then I can tell people that I was your neighbor,” Bernard once said with a shrug and small laughter bubbling from his throat.

Jae only clicked his tongue and went back to reading the lines.)

“Your voice is really good. And I know for a fact that you can play the guitar really well,” Bernard continues whereas Jae leans further back into his hammock to disappear from Bernard’s sight.

“I told you, I don’t wanna be famous,” Jae grumbles into the pages and hides his face with the notebook.

Bernard, however, doesn’t leave the topic alone. “But you’re really good. I mean, aren’t you already producing songs for people?”

“Only small jingles here and there—”

“But everyone needs to start small. It’s one small jingle today and maybe your big breakthrough tomorrow. If you work hard enough—”

“Bernard.” Jae throws him a look that shuts the younger immediately up. “I have no interest in becoming famous in any way. So, leave it, please.”

And Bernard, being the good neighbor that he is, sighs deeply and scratches his neck. “Okay, but really. If—”

“If I become famous nonetheless, I’ll call you first, promise.”

~~~

Rinse and repeat.

Jae wakes up as soon as the sun makes its way up on the sky, coloring the sky in different hues of violet and pink, just how Jae remembers it from Seoul.

He stands up, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, puts on his outfit for the day, eats a small breakfast, jogs to his workplace because he forgot that his car is still in repair, works his usual eight hour shift, goes home, prepares dinner, watches the sun set, goes to sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Sometimes he spices his life up by visiting his therapist. Sometimes he takes a stroll on the beach. Sometimes he stays awake the whole night scared of what might come otherwise. And yet, it’s always the same. Jae had wished for it, got his wish, and now Jae looks the horse in its mouth and wants more.

Life is somewhat boring without the thrilling excitement of probably not surviving the night. People were dangerous and interesting since it was Jae’s job to break down their walls until they bend to his will. Here people don’t want to harm him, and he doesn’t want to harm them, too.

It should be nice, it is nice. Jae loves how he doesn’t struggle with keeping himself alive. Still, he can’t deny the existence of a gun under his pillow or against his back. At least, he takes out the magazine again because he actually doesn’t want to hurt people anymore, no matter if they are evil or not.

It’s just that after years of carrying it with him Jae feels lost without the gun.

Ignoring the fact that Jae feels lost anyway, living his life feels like walking as a… zombie.

It is his way of living in the middle. He is constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop when there hasn’t been a first one at all. Jae is waiting for something to happen that will tell him that this is the wrong way to live since he is the devil playing human in disguise.

Jae has ascended from a darkness that no one should be able to ascend from. People don’t live the mobster life and then leave just like that. They have to die to completely vanish. And he knows that. He has postcards lying around in his house, he has a notebook, a gun under his pillow – all of them are like ghosts haunting his try at a new life.

Jae is exhausted.

After long tiring days Jae remembers to get his car back from the repair shop to finally drive to and from work. Where he enjoys his small strolls home, riding his old pick-up truck that looks like borrowed from a cliched road-trip movie is so much better and time sensitive. The wind caresses his arm that he leans out of the window, a gentle touch of mother nature.

Today feels like a Lasagna kind of day.

His workday is good with nothing exciting happen except for an old woman talking animatedly about her four grand-children and giving Jae a great tip while doing so. Said great tip finances his craving for a good Lasagna and thus, a decision was made.

Lasagna days are usually days where Jae feels more good than bad. His mood is on a subtle level of happiness deriving from being content about his situation. He doesn’t miss his friends as much as on other days and doesn’t long for the thrill of death at all. He is content enough with not being on the brink of death.

(Jae should do a mood-chart, his therapist had once told him when Jae explained his mood swings that last over days, so they could get to the ground on what triggers which mood. Jae only laughed about the idea.)

(He has an app where he jots down good and bad days, though.)

His house is filled with the tasty smell of the Lasagna that is in the oven as he sets the table in front of his TV to watch some reruns of old shows that are always shown on Friday evenings (just like he and Younghyun did years ago in Jae’s dorm when they were too lazy to do anything else).

Today is a Lasagna day.

Only then, when the timer pings and Jae takes the Lasagna out of the oven, someone knocks on his door.

No one ever knocks on Jae’s door because Jae doesn’t have friends here and Bernard only shouts over the fence if he wants something –

(Like that one time when he needed sugar for cooking. Only that Bernard’s good friend stood there with him and tried to get to know Jae.

Jae only stared at her bored and then turned to Bernard—

“I’m gay.”

And Bernard never tried to _borrow sugar_ from Jae ever again.)

So, Jae is stressing over who may be at the door while putting his meal carefully onto the table.

It knocks again, Jae shouts he’s coming, they knock again with more excitement which fills Jae with more anxiety, so he nearly runs to the door impatiently while tugging his gun into his pants and then he opens the door and—

Do you remember the first time Jae met Younghyun in that bar on a Friday night?

Jae does. He will never forget.

Younghyun was that incredibly hot guy playing the guitar and bellowing a song with so many different levels of feelings layered in his voice so that Jae didn’t have any other choice than falling for that man instantly.

For years Jae has mulled over why this sight was so pretty for him, why Younghyun was the epitome of beauty to him, especially when he stared at Jae with such intense eyes.

Only recently it occurred to Jae that the answer to that is simple: Love.

Jae loves Younghyun. In every sense and way, Jae loves Younghyun with everything he has and not once throughout all those years of hardships has Jae’s love for Younghyun wavered. It only got stronger, no matter how much Jae didn’t want for it to happen.

The best of it all? Younghyun did love him back. Younghyun looked at him as if he watched the stars in the sky, praised him with kisses on Jae’s skin, wrote lyrics and ballads about being in heaven when with Jae and in hell when without.

Reading through years’ worth of songs and feelings, Jae has come to realize that Younghyun hadn’t pretended a thing with Jae. Every word he told him, every word whispered into his ear, every promise and assurance, it all was a truth that Jae has never believed in.

The worst of it all? Jae has left Seoul. Jae has left Younghyun behind in order to get what he had longed for so much. He left Younghyun bleeding on the street to reach a surface he still hasn’t seen at all.

At least, that’s what Jae has thought for months. But now… Now—

“Hey.”

His voice is still so deep yet shy and careful, laced with so much vulnerability.

“Hey,” Jae repeats as his mind is turning gears to actually realize what is happening in front of him. Jae doesn’t understand. How can this be?

Eyes that are so intense watch him with wetness clinging to them. His features are so smooth but littered with small scars everywhere, his hair dark and cut shorter than Jae is used to, but even then—

Younghyun is still the prettiest thing Jae has ever seen in this world.

And he is currently standing in front of his door looking as if nothing ever happened. As if he weren’t dying in Jae’s arms last September, his blood still clinging to Jae once he entered the plane.

Younghyun is here. In front of his door. With lips curling up into such a pretty smile that overshadows every sun in the universe.

“I finally found you,” Younghyun whispers gleefully, chuckling at the end as his fingers harden their grip over the strap on his shoulder. The strap of a big bag hanging from his shoulder. Younghyun has a lot of luggage with him, Jae notices.

“You found me,” Jae echoes since he still can’t get a full grasp on what. The. Fuck. Is going on here?

Kang Younghyun.

Kang Younghyun is standing in front of his door. Alive? What?

Younghyun’s smile slowly vanishes when Jae doesn’t react and stays rooted to his spot. He starts shuffling in his own spot, kicking a pebble that is lying around there. A familiar postcard between his fingers.

“Wonpil helped me and you took all my papers from the safe—”

And suddenly, something snaps within Jae and he rushes to Younghyun. Actually, he throws himself into his arms and presses the younger against him. His hands grab the pretty face, directing Younghyun’s lips against his to finally get the air he was longing for such a long time.

It tastes so, so sweet. Jae ignores the chaos rumbling through his mind and heart, just takes in the sweetness of Younghyun’s taste instead.

(Even though Younghyun still tastes like cigarettes and mints, but Jae is somewhat too busy to think about the discrepancy).

Younghyun kisses him eagerly back and takes it a step further by prying Jae’s lips open to dip his tongue into Jae’s mouth, licking into the other like a starving man.

“Hi,” Younghyun whispers against Jae’s lips once both let go of each other to catch their breath.

Both are grinning widely at each other. Jae tries to return Younghyun’s endearing greeting but only gets a sob out of his throat. Younghyun starts to wipe away the tears flowing out of his eyes. How embarrassing.

Except that Jae dives in for another kiss instead of showing the redness that creeps up on his cheeks.

Jae feels air filling his lungs after such a long time as his nose peeks out of the ocean, as the waves make a path for him to swim up and up until he breaks the surface. The sun shines so bright as it fills his world with so many colors.

But all the sudden their small little bubble bursts.

“Is that Lasagna that I— Oh.”

Jae panics in that moment and tries to shove Younghyun away from him, but the younger presses further into him instead and buries Jae’s head into the warm hollow of his neck. He smells so much of Younghyun, a mixture of smoke, vanilla and something even sweeter.

Fingers thread through his hair at his nape as Jae realizes what Younghyun is doing.

“Sorry, I didn’t know Jae has a guest over,” Kevin apologizes loudly (probably loud enough that the whole street knows about it and they then can gossip about the sudden appearance of a hot guy with whom the lanky and awkward man makes out on his front yard).

“And you are?” Younghyun asks bluntly (Jae can hear the wary tone accompanying the smile on his lips).

“Bernard. I’m Jae’s neighbor. You?”

“Younghyun. Jae’s… friend. Nice to meet you.”

Before Bernard can return the nicety, Jae heaves his head up from Younghyun’s shoulder but still looks down to his feet, embarrassed of the dried tear tracks on his face and the redness clinging to his cheeks. He grasps Younghyun’s jacket between his fingers, whispering,

“We should go in.”

~~~

They listen to the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore as Jae cuts through his Lasagna, serving two plates for the first time in months (Bernard sometimes insists on a piece that he will then eat with Jae together on their back porches respectfully, both lulled into silence by the food and the sea).

His hands are shaking when he puts the dish in front of Younghyun who stares at the Lasagna with stars in his eyes and, after a small ‘ _mashittge deuseyo_ ’, devours the food like a man nearly starved to death. A small smile steals itself on Jae’s face as he watches the younger scarfing down every piece of his dish, Younghyun moaning in delight at the taste that he eventually asks for another serving.

It reminds Jae of the good old days. It somehow makes it a lot easier to eat his own piece slowly to hide the stupid smile growing on his face.

“Something wrong with my face?” Younghyun suddenly asks with food filled cheeks and eyes so wide—

“No, nothing,” Jae shakes his head in amusement. Everything is perfect.

For once.

“If someone had told me that your cooking is excellent, I would’ve laughed in their face,” Younghyun admits with a full belly, slumping back into the couch with a content sigh. He pats his belly a few times before he turns his head and smiles at Jae.

His heart can’t handle the pure gaze thrown at him. It flutters in his chest as if in love for the first time again. His cheeks and ears feel warm to the already warm air and his hands start sweating. Jae feels like turning into that twenty-something college student again, who has lost his heart to a song within seconds.

It feels like a dream to Jae. His mind is overwhelmed and can’t keep up with reality. Younghyun is here, next to him, after so much time has passed where Jae believed that Younghyun was dead. But he is here. Bernard saw him, too, talked to him, doesn’t this make Younghyun even more real?

Jae fiddles with his fingers, so absorbed in his thoughts that Younghyun’s hand takes him by surprise. Their fingers intertwine and even with all the years that have passed, they still fit perfectly together as two pieces that were created for each other.

“I love you, Jae.”

Water breaks in and rushes into his lungs, filling his veins with this indescribable feeling of riding on a high that is oddly sweet enough to make him forget about all the pain bursting through the walls of his heart. His mind is in scrambles, yet Jae doesn’t care, not when he feels the warm hand holding his so carefully, not when he can finally hear this voice again.

Jae wants to say it back, tell Younghyun every story that is written inside his broken heart, which is now mending itself as the ghost of Younghyun’s dead is no longer haunting him.

Younghyun isn’t dead anymore.

Younghyun isn’t dead.

But he is supposed to be.

Just when he opens his mouth to confess all the thoughts that are plaguing him, Jae remembers. Younghyun is supposed to be dead because Jae had traded one life for another. He traded Younghyun’s life for _his_ freedom and still, Younghyun is here, holding his hand, telling him sweet words that turn his world on its head.

Younghyun’s dead was part of his great plan to escape. What happens when the main actor isn’t dead?

“I thought you were dead,” Jae settles on instead. He takes his hand out of Younghyun’s to continue fiddling with his fingers and stares down to them to evade Younghyun’s searching gaze. Severe guilt weighs on his shoulders.

But sweet Younghyun doesn’t let him. His fingers caress the skin on his neck, up to his cheek, to make Jae look at him without any success. “I was,” Younghyun agrees and then adds, “But only for a few minutes.”

His body tenses when he hears the simple admission. He feels the tears threatening to spill, but Jae holds them back as it is too early to cry. He is tired of crying. He is tired of feeling the guilt. He is just tired.

“What do you—What do you mean? You were— for a few minutes?”

Younghyun suddenly appears in front of his face, smiling so much that his eyes crinkle, a sight that makes his heart miss a few beats before it speeds up to double the pace.

“Like I said, Wonpil helped me.”

“Wonpil?” Jae’s head follows Younghyun’s as the younger leans back again, now angling his body towards Jae and leaning against his arm on the backrest.

“Yeah, that guy had his own plan while you were focused on your thing.”

“But—he didn’t—”

“He didn’t tell me either.” Younghyun breaks their eye contact to glance outside the patio. His gaze looks so far away.

“What happened? Younghyun, what happened that night?”

The night Younghyun was supposed to die and Jae has left with just one regret.

Younghyun sighs deeply. “I don’t know much about it. Apparently at dinner Dowoonie spiced my food with some drug that very slowly paralyzed my body. That whole evening, I felt—numb, but I thought that was because I was ready to die.”

Jae winces at the confession. Younghyun continues without acknowledging it.

“After you were gone from that abandoned building, Daesung continued to—I mean, they threw me on the street once they couldn’t feel a pulse and thought I lost enough blood to never survive the night. It was raining and I could see the city above me.

“But I still somehow survived. Next thing I know, weeks passed, and I woke up to a body littered with scars. But I am alive. Because, as it seems, Wonpil was operating on his own at Sungjin’s order. What they did saved my life. But in return, Sungjin declared war. He is—”

“I don’t—” Jae interrupts, a hard grip around Younghyun’s arm. “—I don’t want to know. I’m not part of this anymore. I want to become blind to this again, just like before.”

A life left behind as if that is something Jae can turn his back to forever. But he can’t. Not when the shadows are following him forever on a path that slowly fades from red to green again. Jae can at least forget a bit and let the past be past and present be present.

What he hasn’t anticipated is the kind smile Younghyun gives him with eyes filled with so much fondness that his heart threatens to burst into tears.

“Would you hate me if I asked…” Younghyun trails off as his hand searches for Jae’s again. “Can I take part in your life again and stay by your side?”

Jae’s head whips immediately up to stare unabashed at Younghyun. His heart beats uncontrollably against his chest as his veins fill with so much warm excitement. He thinks he misheard Younghyun, asks for confirmation in a whisper.

Younghyun smiles lightly, warmly, so fondly and even shyly, Jae dares to say, as his cheeks fill with redness and his eyes glaze over.

“You were part of my world for so long… So, it’s only fair if I ask to be part of yours. I want this for us, wanted this for so long. Far away from everything in Seoul, from the mob, from the darkness. I want us to be free.”

Younghyun suddenly looks up and lays his forehead against Jae’s, asking with his eyes the already spoken words again.

Jae answers in the only way that his body is able to.

When their lips meet again in a kiss that tells so many words, the sun sets behind the window with a warm orange on a cloudless sky.

He doesn’t know how it happens (at the same time, he doesn’t question it,) but he and Younghyun suddenly stumble up the stairs and through the door. Their lips always find and latch on each other again, licking feverish into the other’s mouth like starved men finding the oasis in a desert.

Fingers reach for skin on waists, wandering up to take off their clothes. Not so much later, their naked bodies touch from top to bottom as Younghyun presses Jae into the mattress, kissing every part of his body that he can reach.

“Fuck,” Jae curses when Younghyun bites the sensitive spot on his thigh, going higher until his mouth finds its destination.

Jae gasps when Younghyun’s tongue runs along his red and hard length, then presses a soft kiss against the leaking tip before he swallows it down, going as deep as he is able to. Jae’s fingers find their way into Younghyun’s hair and grasp his strands to guide Younghyun along just like Jae likes it. When Younghyun uses his tongue and hollows his cheek, Jae could come on the spot.

“Wait—wait,” Jae tugs Younghyun off his cock to kiss him deeply, faintly tasting himself in the other’s mouth. “I don’t want to come too soon,” Jae breathes against the younger’s lips as he can’t help but stare at them. They look so plush as they are swollen and bitten raw by Jae, and Jae feels proud of that.

Younghyun leans back and starts leaning forward to the nightstand, probably searching for lube, when Jae catches on and remembers what exactly is hidden in this drawer. Jae suddenly throws himself to reach the drawer first, except that he is too late and Younghyun is already gliding his finger along the sharp needles.

“You’re taking drugs?” Younghyun asks in a whisper, void of any emotion, that scares Jae shitless since that is Younghyun’s poker face voice. The one he usually takes on when talking to his victims.

Hastily, Jae takes out the lube and closes the drawer, attacking Younghyun’s neck in a not so feasible attempt to distract him from the things he saw. He leans back on the bed, takes Younghyun with him, attaches his lips to the other; nothing works. The fire between them is muted as Younghyun stops working with him.

“I’m clean,” Jae weakly says when Younghyun stops responding to his kisses. And when Younghyun only cocks his eyebrow, Jae adds a quiet, “For a month or so.”

Even now after years of knowing each other, after all their ups and downs, after Jae claiming over and over again that he knows Younghyun like the back of his hands, he is taken by surprise as Younghyun threads his fingers through Jae’s hair, caressing his cheeks and pressing soft kisses all over his face. His last kiss against Jae’s forehead lingers for a while before he releases him with a shaking breath.

“I’m sorry,” Younghyun whispers instead of cussing out his disappointment of Jae. Jae’s heart threatens to escape through his throat as the older is caught off-guard by the sorrowful expression of Younghyun.

“What for?”

For a short moment Jae is scared that maybe Wonpil told Younghyun about Jae’s pitiful thoughts—

(“I’ve read once that taking cocaine feels the same as falling in love,” Jae had said slowly, closing his eyes again.

Wonpil’s thumb stroked over his cheek to dry the tears as he pressed a long kiss on his forehead. “At one point in the future, the night will end, and colors will paint your sky again. If it is with or without Younghyun-hyung, that’s for you to decide.”

Jae had then already long made his decision. He left without Younghyun.)

—but when Younghyun kisses him deeply to express all of the sorrow he feels, Jae believes he can only scratch the surface of what exactly Younghyun is feeling.

Jae wants him to elaborate those feelings. He wants to get to know the younger from inside out again, explore the deep ocean that hides the sun behind his eyes. Jae is about to make the same mistake again just like all those years ago, only that he now decides to forget about it for a moment.

He wants to forget. Close his eyes and be blind to the darkness surrounding them as the sun has long set.

Hence, instead of asking Younghyun for permission to break down all of his walls, Jae pushes the younger into the bed and climbs atop, taking a deep breath for the thing he is about to do.

His fingers shake as he unclasps the bottle of lube. They still shake as he rubs them wetly against each other. His whole arm is trembling when he reaches behind to his own entrance and pushes slowly one finger in with a low grunt.

He can’t see Younghyun’s expression with his head pressed against Younghyun’s chest, but he feels his heart pumping hard. Jae feels encouraged by that simple reaction and starts moving his finger slowly in and out.

The burning sensation slowly gives way to a more sensual feeling that has him gasping against Younghyun’s not so impeccable skin anymore. His lips chafe against the many scars littered on his torso, just as Jae’s own scars rub against Younghyun’s soft skin. Bodies that have seen a lot but still are so new for the other to explore with much excitement.

“Are you sure?” Younghyun asks when Jae is two fingers in and fucks himself on them. Luck has it that the moment Younghyun voices his question Jae finally finds the bundle of nerves and moans loudly against the other’s chest.

His hole puckers when nothing fills him anymore since Younghyun suddenly pulls his fingers out harshly.

Younghyun then turns them around in one swift movement and dives in for Jae’s lips, grunting like an animal and rubbing his hard-on into Jae’s belly. Jae is unbelievably turned on by the act and whines in frustration when Younghyun presses his hands next to his head after Jae tried to finger himself open again.

“Do you really want me to fuck you?” The blunt question lets Jae whine louder in a plead, repeating ‘yes’ over and over again.

Younghyun doesn’t let himself be told twice. He coats his fingers with a copious amount of lube before they fill Jae. Younghyun’s fingers aren’t as long as Jae’s but they are thicker than his lanky ones. The stretch is bigger than before, it burns painfully and yet, his erection twitches when Younghyun scissors him open even though he hears the discomfort in Jae’s grunts.

This here, this is familiar ground for them. They know how to please and pleasure the other, what they like and what not. Younghyun knows that Jae likes the pain albeit Jae always denies it, Younghyun knows that Jae prefers him to be hard and wild instead of soft and caring; just as Jae knows that Younghyun is a pleaser and gives in to every wish all while he wishes to stay in control.

Amidst this familiar ground, they have long found a harmonious balance of their desires. Give and take, push and pull. Kisses are sweet, touches are lingering, everything has a meaning.

Younghyun whispers sweet nothings into his skin that are actually important things when Jae starts listening to them. One confession after another pours out of the younger as he mouths along Jae’s collarbones, as his third finger joins his other two pumping in and out, and Jae feels like seeing stars again.

He remembers a faint melody, a song that comes to his mind. So many lyrics that fill his head, all of them suddenly on Younghyun’s lips as he tattoos them on Jae’s skin with soft kisses and bites.

Jae is floating on the feeling of falling, only that he lands in the warm embrace of his lover who watches him as if Jae holds his world between his hands. Their kisses become sweet instead of hungry again. They fill Jae with so many feelings that they want to burst out of his chest with a loud scream.

“I love you,” Younghyun whispers against his lips as he slowly presses his cock into Jae. Jae throws his head into his neck and arches his back at the feeling of being finally filled. The stars are so bright in the sky, Jae thinks, as pain turns into sweet pleasure.

His fingers claw into Younghyun’s back, urging the younger to start moving and fucking him good.

He gasps and whines and moans, all of those hungrily caught by Younghyun’s own lips, even when the younger moans with his own movements.

And when Younghyun rises his hand to Jae’s throat, Jae nearly cries in happiness. It gets stuck in his throat when Younghyun’s hand wanders higher towards his cheek, cupping them to pull Jae into a long and soft kiss again. Younghyun slows his movement down until he stops. Jae is entranced in the way he is kissed and held, and for a betraying minute he thought, _I want this forever._

“I love you, Jaehyung,” Younghyun repeats again. This time, though, his eyes search for something in Jae’s face. They look so vulnerable and open that Jae realizes that he doesn’t have to ask Younghyun if he is allowed to break down his walls. He already lays everything bare for Jae to see, only that Jae was too blind to really see it before. Now he notices the light shining in Younghyun’s eyes even in the dark night.

“I love you, too, Younghyunnie,” Jae breathes into Younghyun’s mouth.

The mood suddenly shifts when Younghyun’s lips break into a bright smile that affects Jae all the same as his own lips quirk up in an expression of pure happiness. That is, until Younghyun starts moving again and pounds so hard into Jae that has him writhing beneath the younger and meeting his thrusts with ones of his own.

“Choke me,” Jae suddenly pleads and Younghyun easily complies. The pressure on his throat builds slowly along to the pleasure filling his veins.

He feels his groin tighten as his orgasms nearly peaks. He chokes on his warning as he can’t take a breath anymore, but Younghyun understands him all the same, while his other hand reaches down to tug at Jae’s cock in rhythm with his thrusts.

Jae comes with a silent cry, arching his back from the bed and pressing himself further into Younghyun. The brightest colors fill his mind just as his lungs fill with fresh air. His pleasure peaks when Younghyun comes with a last hard thrust into Jae, biting down on his shoulder.

Younghyun lies on him, both breathing hard, bodies stick to each other with sweat and cum. Younghyun slowly pulls out and Jae feels cum and lube dripping out of his hole, the feeling only faintly familiar and yet so foreign to him.

They smile and kiss and touch each other, bathing in the high of really good sex and the feeling of the other in their arms.

It is only after Younghyun has cleaned them both up and put them under the blankets that Jae comes down from his euphoria and finds the darkness staring back at him.

~~~

That night he doesn’t dream. How could he when he can’t find a wink of sleep at all? His mind is filled with so many questions and self-deprecating thoughts that Jae doesn’t know where to start working through them.

Younghyun quietly snores next to him, thankfully with his back turned to Jae, who only stares at the ceiling. That way he can’t see Younghyun through the darkness. Jae’s fingers itch to grab for a sleeping pill in the drawer next to him, but afraid that he reaches for the wrong thing at the same time.

Cocaine helps him to think better. Cocaine helps him to cope better.

He had once spent a night high on white powder and wrote two jingles within hours that he was totally spaced out, but hey, his customer loved his shit. He had spent other nights totally high to ponder over hundred ways of solving his problems back in Seouls, most of them involving Younghyun being alive and or even coming with him to America.

On bad nights, Jae had cried himself to sleep when he read through the notebook and mourned over a love long lost. He promised himself that if he got another chance in the future, he would take it without question.

Yet, here he is, lying wide awake in a bed with said second chance and is questioning his sanity and the reality of the situation at the same time.

Younghyun isn’t dead, and Wonpil didn’t tell him a single word about it. Thinking about it hard, he suddenly gets the clues that his younger brothers had given him on their last night. _Don’t worry about Younghyun, they’ll take care of him_. Back then, Jae hadn’t thought much about it since he was caught in his own regret and guilt. Now, however, Jae is acutely aware of the severity of the situation.

He got played again, only this time by Wonpil. He isn’t mad at him because he knows that Wonpil only meant good.

But Younghyun had also meant good when he tried to kill him. Or let it look like he attempted to kill him. Jae has long thought about it, about Chan’s words and Wonpil’s words and Sungjin’s words and Dowoon’s words and wow – so many words — and he concluded that he might have overreacted. Younghyun only wanted the best for them, that Jae knows for sure now.

If only he had known about it any earlier.

Mulling over this while thinking that Younghyun is dead? Bad idea. Mulling over this while Younghyun is sleeping next to him? Still a bad idea.

Jae feels so lost.

Yes, he did confess that he is still very much in love with Younghyun in the heat of moment, a fact that will never change in Jae’s life. Jae loves Younghyun just as Younghyun loves Jae.

Jae is lost in the deep sea after such a long time. He has once reached the surface and broke through, only now to be swimming in the middle of the ocean. It matters now what he does as every wrong movement is one step nearer to the darkness beneath him.

What should he do now? Where do he and Younghyun stand now? What does Younghyun want from life?

Younghyun asked him to be part of his world. What does that even mean?

Jae tiredly scrubs over his eyes and sighs deeply. He can’t take it anymore, so he goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water onto his face to rub the bad thoughts out of his mind.

Why is he breathing so hard, though?

Jae is confused, tired, he just wants the pain to leave so badly.

His first thought is to reach for the phone and call—

His second thought is, ‘ _oh. I can’t do that anymore._ ’

His third thought is a precarious wish to get Wonpil back again, his soft kisses and caresses against his skin. Jae misses the guy so much it hurts.

He hunks over the sink and buries his hands into his hair, trying to breathe with the memory of Wonpil’s voice guiding him through the motions. Breathe in. And out.

Rinse and repeat.

Anger fills his veins. Jae hates that he is such a fuck-up who can’t work properly anymore. Preferably he would travel back in time and slap some sense into his college self, screaming that he should cherish his own life more. College Jae was a loser maybe, but college Jae wasn’t damaged good who could only sleep with pills or some drugs in his blood.

This is fucked up in so many ways.

In the heat of the moment where his mind crushes every hard truth into him, Jae picks up the toothbrush cup and throws it into the next best corner. A loud crash echoes through the house and Jae couldn’t care any less. The soap follows the cup and then his variety of foam washes, all of them thrown into the darkness of somewhere in this room.

He is breathing slower again when he calms down and lets the situation settle in. And finally notices the person leaning casually in the doorway and waiting to be noticed.

“Okay now?” Younghyun whispers. Jae is thankful that he doesn’t sound condescending or full of pity. His calm voice only fills the pressuring silence. When Jae doesn’t answer, he sighs and moves from his spot. His fingers curl around Jae’s wrist and tug him out of the room.

The night is beautiful outside. The sky is clear and full of stars shining so bright. Wind whips around them, but Younghyun wraps them up with the blanket Jae usually has on his couch. Their bodies touch from their thighs up to their arms, but the air between them is that of silent companions.

They both stare up to gaze at the stars so far away from them. The sight is so much prettier than amidst in Seoul where skyscrapers obscure their view.

Younghyun is the one who first breaks the silence. “We should talk.” He sighs then and slumps further into Jae, leaning his head onto Jae’s shoulder. “We should finally talk about everything. We have so many years full of anger and resentment, so many misunderstandings and things weighing on our mind… Don’t you think it’s time we acknowledge them and finally voice out how we feel?”

And Younghyun couldn’t have been any more right. Jae knows that he has to talk about the things that are bottled up in his mind. That’s the reason why he has a therapist (that he isn’t really talking to) after all.

The problem is that voicing those thoughts is really hard because Jae has realized that most of them were simply wrong. Jae did many wrongs and mistakes, but facing them?

Younghyun has always been braver than him. He pours everything into his lyrics and make them heard, something that Jae isn’t able to. Younghyun is the one who compels Jae into facing his own problems, Younghyun is the one who never runs away from his feelings.

(If only Jae knew how wrong that assumption is.)

“I’ve read your notebook,” Jae bursts out instead. He hastily explains, “I’d found it between my things when I moved in here, so… I was curious and yeah…”

Younghyun, going against all of Jae’s expectations, chuckles warmly. “I know. I wanted you to, just in case that I can’t tell you what I feel in person. So, I’ve asked Wonpil to snuggle this between your things.”

“Oh.” Jae clears awkwardly his throat. “Well, I—yeah. I read it.”

Silence embraces them in the coldness of the night. Jae’s mind is running on high speed. His thoughts are stumbling over themselves, all of them abstract and chaotic things that make it hard to grab one alone.

In his wallow, Jae pulls the blanket tighter around him and automatically pulls Younghyun nearer to him. His skin is hot where they touch, a reminder of the things that occurred only hours ago.

Warmth seeps into Jae’s leg when Younghyun’s hand suddenly sneaks up and lays itself on his knee. The touch is soft and comforting, a light grip to keep Jae grounded. It distracts him enough to let his thoughts fizzle into background noise, still there but not so throbbing anymore.

Younghyun presses a kiss against his shoulder and starts to talk against it.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I brought you into my mess. I’m sorry that I left you alone. I’m sorry that I kept the truth from you. I’m sorry that I was selfish.” Jae’s heart starts throbbing at the deep sadness whispered into his skin. Younghyun takes a shaking breath before he continues,

“When I first met you, I saw something in you that I couldn’t let slip through my fingers. I suddenly saw the opportunity to be the man who I wanted to be. Still want to be.

“You were innocent, you showed me a life filled with so many colors that I thought that my heart will burst any minute. And even when I showed you my darkest secrets, you didn’t leave. I wanted you to leave and save yourself from my world.

“But you stayed. And I thought, I want this. I want this man who stays by my side no matter what I do because he loves the person that I really am. And then I realized, I can’t. My world will break you, just as it did with me… I wanted to save you. Just like you saved me. I was ready to die if it meant that you can finally be happy again.”

Another kiss pressed against his shoulder. And another.

And Jae doesn’t—he can’t—

His fingers turn white at how hard he squeezes them, his lips quiver in the way he keeps his tears at bay. Jae is confused, his feelings are a mess, pain fills his veins with a bitter taste.

It is hard to hear those words and compare them to the memories he has. It’s hard when they are overshadowed with so much resentment and betrayal that Jae had fully believed to overcome. Guilt is a heavy pressure on his chest that makes breathing so hard.

Jae wants to love Younghyun so much, but at what cost?

He wants to tell Younghyun all the things he deserves to hear, but Jae can’t. Not when he doesn’t know what the future will hold for them. Not when he can’t trust the words spoken to him.

Jae needs time.

Younghyun is back after months of thinking that he was dead and suddenly, Jae has the time to think. Does he? Or is Younghyun gone the next day?

All he can hear is fear and pain whispering into his ear like the demon that has its hands over his heart, but then love dries his tears and assures him that yes, this means forever.

Jae had believed in forever two times and both times, forever turned into a nightmare. Why would this time turn out different?

Years passed where they had only hurt each other without the intention of doing so. Love can be cruel where it wants to be the best thing you can ever have, especially at times when love loses its meaning in the eye of survival.

“Younghyun—” Jae eventually starts hesitant and confused. Younghyun, sweet and kind Younghyun, nuzzles deeper into his shoulder and shakes his head as if to say, ‘it’s okay, you don’t have to’. But maybe this is just Younghyun’s only way to save his own heart from being broken for a last time.

His voice sounds teary when he speaks again, a simple question that shakes Jae down to his inner core. “Are you finally happy, Jae?”

And while the night passes and the darkness fade into the colors of dawn, Jae can’t find the answer that Younghyun wants to hear.

~~~

It’s odd to have Younghyun back in his life. It’s odd to hear him speaking English without ever saying a word in Korean on some days, and it’s then even odder to hear him talk in Korean and Jae answering without thinking twice – also in Korean.

Bernard watches them with amusement when they are sitting on the porch in the evening, beers open in their hands and the sun dunking their faces in orange while they talk in a weird mixture of Korean and English.

Having Younghyun around as a fixture in his life, Jae doesn’t know how to feel about that. It brings back a lot of memories of being with Younghyun during college and their short stay together in Ilsan.

Younghyun is there every time Jae leaves or enters the house. When he goes to work, Younghyun bids him good-bye like the good housewife he jokes to be and when he comes back home, Younghyun has dinner ready to be eaten by a hungry Jae.

Lasagna days are long gone if it meant he gets to eat Younghyun’s homemade bibimbap.

The first shoe dropped when Younghyun suddenly stood in front of his door. Now Jae is waiting for the other to do its thing. There is some kind of underlying tension between them. Younghyun obviously waits patiently for an answer from Jae whereas Jae is still hesitant about everything that involves, well, Younghyun.

They sleep in the same bed without touching, they enjoy the same TV shows without touching, they eat without touching, they watch the sunset without touching – and honestly, it drives Jae crazy. Something traitorous in his mind is always urging him to touch Younghyun, but the problem is that once Jae does it, he wants it the whole nine yards.

Jae’s lips are chapped from all the times he bites them when Younghyun does something really attractive that turns Jae on so much—

(One time, Jae came home from a quick run to the store after their toothpaste ran out and found Younghyun cleaning his windows in a wifebeater. Who the fuck even wears a wifebeater in early March? And to top things off, the way he was dropping down to the floor—something within him had died on that day, that’s for sure.)

— and don’t even start on the awkward moments in the morning where Jae wakes up with Younghyun’s ass against his hard on.

But three things:

First of all, Jae isn’t dumb. He is fully aware that Younghyun can be a teasing flirt who knows that he has this effect on Jae. He is doing those things solely to rile him up and no one can change his mind.

Second of all, Jae is not a hormonal teenager who can’t keep it in his pants and who learned from past mistakes. Been there, done that, at least twice. This time Jae doesn’t want sex and the illusory sense of comfort to addle with his mind and stop his thinking process.

Third of all, Jae is still working through some things. That he keeps putting off calling his therapist and continuing to reschedule their sessions maybe plays a major factor in his issue of being emotionally constipated.

At least, Younghyun is patient and doesn’t pressure him into things anymore. Which pressures Jae a lot. He only needs to look at that unfairly pretty man and think, god, he wants this.

And then he has his usual nightmares and throws everything out of the window.

(But then he has Younghyun rocking him back and forth and talking to him in that calm voice while he presses kisses into his head instead of pushing sleeping pills into his mouth. Jae prefers this a lot over his usual ways of dealing with nightmares.)

The world is nice. Their situation is nice. Having Younghyun around is nice. And then, one day, Jae realizes that it can’t go on like that. They are holding each other at a distance when they want to be close to each other, both hurting along the way.

He is working when it happens. But before the story begins, a few reminders:

Younghyun and he aren’t in a relationship. They are only very (very) close roommates.

Which means, Younghyun is a very attractive single man.

And lastly, Jae works in a job where he has to be nice to customers.

With that in mind, let’s continue.

Jae is working his shift at the café and cleans the tables while singing under his breath since the café is nearly empty at this time, when suddenly the bell above the door rings and Jae shouts his usual cheery greeting—only to see Younghyun beaming at him with amusement written all over his face.

“What are you doing here?”

Younghyun is walking up to the counter as he takes in the interior. Jae uses the short time to quickly straighten his hair and clothes to not look like as if he was working for the past for hours.

“I wanted to see where you earn your living,” Younghyun teases him with a smirk on his lips. “And maybe get a special drink from a special person.”

“Then you’re at the wrong place.” Jae still starts to make the drink to surprise Younghyun with one of his best coffees.

“Why are you even working here? I’ve seen your finances, you’re perfectly well-off.” Welp, Younghyun would know after Jae found him snooping around his papers just last week. If Younghyun hadn’t been this financial genius, then Jae would have kicked him out of his house instantly. Alas, Jae suddenly has his old accountant back.

And Younghyun isn’t wrong. Jae took all of his hard-earned blood-money with him when he left Seoul, plus he earns a small living by producing those small jingles for some companies. His job here though is mostly for keeping him sane by establishing a certain routine to his life.

“I like working here,” he says instead and gives Younghyun a drink on the house. Even when the younger insists on paying, Jae only shakes his head and invites him to stay. A new batch of cookies is on its way and Jae knows that Younghyun loves those cookies. He is eating them every time Jae brings them home.

Wide afar from the scene in front of him (Younghyun sitting at the window and smiling at funny pictures on his phone while drinking something Jae made), Jae is getting lost in the beautiful sight that is offered to him. His co-worker, a loud and very nice young girl, chuckles at the love-struck expression his face morphs into when he catches another sight of Younghyun.

“Get your boy,” his co-worker tells him as she presses a plate with cookies on them und pushes him into his direction.

He hasn’t even left the counter when the bell over the door twinkles again and another customer arrives. Jae, the only barista currently at work, sighs and does his work. Just when he bids a farewell to him, said customer doesn’t go away. Nope, he even makes a big swerve right directly to the only other customer in the shop—Younghyun.

“Hey,” the very attractive customer says with his deep voice as he straightens his shirt and Jae pretty much suppresses the urge of hitting him with the plate.

“Hey,” Younghyun echoes back, lightly confused and amused at the same time. Jae catches Younghyun glancing quickly at him before his smile widens as he leans his head into his hand in front of him. “Can I help you?”

The guy reciprocates the smile with a twinkle in his eyes and takes another step towards Younghyun. Jae wants to throw the cookies at him.

“Maybe,” hot guy says and puts his hand on the free chair. “But maybe I can help you? You surely want some company here, right?”

He has some company, Jae thinks at the same time as Younghyun quips a “Sure”.

That betrayal. Jae purses his lips and taps his fingers on the counter. Remember, he works here, he has to be nice to customers. Not as nice as Younghyun is to him, but nice.

“I’m Bobby and you?” Hot guy, Bobby, throws Younghyun some pretty eyes as he sips with wrong shyness at his americano.

“Brian.”

Oh. Interesting. This takes Jae off-guard. Younghyun hasn’t used this name for a long time now, he even cussed at Jae the few times he used his name just out of habit.

“So, Brian, I haven’t seen you here before, have I?”

“No, I’m new here,” _Brian_ agrees with a flirty smile on his and then—he giggles like a girl. There he sits and fucking giggles at Bobby.

What the fuck?

“Oh, maybe I can show you around for a bit?” Bobby bashfully proceeds to flirt with Younghyun, leaning forward in his seat. “I know a few places to get a good drink or some dinner?”

Younghyun giggles again, swatting against Bobby’s arm. “You know how to woo a guy.”

Bobby bellows a laugh. Jae’s eyebrow twitches just like his fingers. The cookie plate is still in his hand. The opportunity to throw them is there. His co-worker clicks his tongue as a warning. Jae needs to do something, otherwise that ugly monster in him is about to reach for the gun that is safely tucked against his back.

“Then, how about a few drinks and then dinner—”

“Here are your cookies, _Brian._ ”

Bobby flinches back when Jae throws the cookies onto the table and pushes himself between them at the same time. _Nice his ass_ , Jae frowns, that guy is about to ask someone out who is actually Jae’s.

“Thank you—” Younghyun leans forward as if to read his nametag. “— _Jae_.”

And then, Jae doesn’t make a move to, well, move. He glares down to Younghyun who stares at Bobby who glares at Jae until he huffs and gets Jae’s attention.

“Do you need anything else?” Jae asks with his fake nice customer service voice which Bobby obviously picks up on since Jae’s tone is very much sarcastic.

“No, I don’t think so,” Younghyun answers instead of Bobby. “Except, is there something you can recommend us? A place to have some nice dinner at?”

Bobby lights up at Younghyun’s not so obvious tease. “So, you—”

“Fuck off, Bobby,” Jae suddenly blurts and stares daggers at the hot guy.

“Woah, I don’t think you can talk—”

“I said. Fuck off, Bobby!” Jae repeats with a step towards Bobby, pinning him down with a glare that he is very much used to wear. If Jae has learnt one thing from being a mobster, then it’s how to look dangerous and ready to kill at the wrong word.

Bobby huffs again as he stands from his chair to leave, but not before he writes down his number on a tissue and swipes it over to Younghyun with a quiet “Call me” for him and a louder “asshole” for Jae.

The bell above the door tingles and Jae watches Bobby’s retrieving back until it vanishes around the corner before he turns back to a very amused Younghyun. Jae wants to punch him in his face.

Back to the roots, huh?

“What was that about?” Jae groans loudly as he ignores the loud cackle from the kitchen where his co-worker is totally not listening in.

“I only asked you a question,” Younghyun shrugs his shoulders. Then, he leans forward towards Jae and grins so that his eyes crinkle, a very much pretty sigh that makes Jae shy enough to blush. “What is the best place to grab dinner, though? There’s some cute guy I want to go out with, y’know.”

Jae pouts his lips as he tries to push down the ugly feeling in his stomach. It didn’t occur to him once that Younghyun is interested in dating someone other than Jae. His confessions are still echoing in Jae’s mind and yet, with weeks that passed without Jae ever reciprocating any of his advances, Younghyun must have become tired of waiting. This is a real possibility, alright?

They have to move on eventually, it’s only on Jae whether they do that as a couple or not. And so far, Jae hasn’t done much to assure Younghyun that he needs more time to think.

Is he allowed to be mad at Younghyun wanting to date while waiting? Jae would be, but then, he doesn’t have the right to do so.

So, Jae does the right thing and only takes a heavy sigh before he answers, “Cute? I think he was more hot than cute.”

Younghyun hums in agreement, though the smile isn’t suddenly on his lips anymore. “Maybe. But I honestly am thinking about someone else.”

Oh. There’s someone else?

And all the sudden, such carefree laughter spills out of Younghyun’s throat that it catches Jae off-guard, especially when Younghyun reaches for his hand to press a chaste kiss against his palm.

“I mean you, you idiot.”

And somehow, those words stick with Jae the whole day long. This whole situation doesn’t leave him for the day. And the next. And the next.

And then, only three days later, Jae makes a call in the middle of the night.

“I need to talk to you urgently.”

This is how Jae sits in his therapist’s office only a day later after weeks of avoiding him, ready to spill out the contents of his heart.

“How’s Eric doing?” he asks as usual and Joshua ignores him as usual.

“We haven’t seen each other in a while, Jae. “

And thus, the staring competition begins. But no, for real, Jae is the one who wanted this meeting. Just – it’s hard to open up about the things ghosting in his mind and the fears haunting him in his sleep. And just like that, Jae takes a deep breath and exhales.

He is determined.

“I was at the top of a mob in Korea,” Jae bluntly confesses. Joshua, however, doesn’t blink eyes. He only nods for him to show that he is listening. “I worked my way up by deceiving people and giving them directly into death’s hands. And that’s not a metaphor, I had a personal hitman that I could call any time I wanted.”

Joshua leans forward, his face showing only faint curiosity. “And, did you? Call him any time you wanted?”

Jae swallows and then smiles. “He was my friend. _Is_ my friend. He’s… a good guy, well, except for being a psychopath and killing people.”

“What about you? What was your role?”

“Drug dealing.” He chuckles when Joshua rises his eyebrow, the irony of the situation clearly not going over his head. “At first, but then I became the boss’s right hand and did the business deals. I had underlings to sort out my drug business.”

His pen scratches on the paper. Joshua watches Jae before he slowly asks, “So, you were a man of power, right? The top of the top in the underground, you could say?” Jae nods. “What was it like?”

“Good, I guess,” Jae reiterates without much thinking. “People were respecting me. I had a flat at the top floor and could watch over the city. I felt untouchable up there, just how I had always wished for it to be.”

“And then something happened, and you suddenly decided it’s not worth it?”

Jae exhales slowly and leans back in his seat.

He thinks back to nearly a year ago and the boys dying under his nose. Jae has always thought that this was the moment when everything was over; when Kim Namjoon laid the slaughtered body across his floor to teach him a lesson.

But honestly? At this point everything was already decided for Jae. He was the person who set everything into motion. He was the one who sought out Namjoon’s help because he couldn’t keep surviving anymore.

“Nothing happened,” Jae eventually says after some thinking. “It was a process. I never liked this certain lifestyle, so at some point I just—I couldn’t take it anymore. And then I made this stupid but genius plan that got me out eventually.”

The pen scratches again. The clock ticks faintly in the background. Joshua hums as he reads his notes. Jae fiddles with his fingers, taps against his thigh, shakes with his leg. Something builds within Jae when nothing is said. A certain tension rises between them, a pen scratching, clock ticking, a low humming and Jae—

Well, he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind, “I fell in love with one of them, that’s the sole reason for—for everything. The reason why I joined a mob, the reason why I worked my way to the top, the reason why I wanted out, the reason why I’m here.”

“Because you fell in love?”

“I never fell out of it. And I don’t think I will ever be able to.”

The confession feels like a small pebble falling from the giant stone on his heart. His walls are crumbling because Jae knows this is his only chance of getting this out in the world. Yes, there is Younghyun to talk to and Younghyun will probably not walk to the police and snitch on him; but Joshua, Joshua doesn’t know the mobster life. Joshua is a professional for the normal people and that is what Jae wants: to be normal again.

“We are talking about Brian, right?”

“Younghyun. His real name is Younghyun.”

It always comes back to Younghyun. Younghyun here, Younghyun there, always Younghyun.

“I thought he was dead because I… I told him to die.”

He didn’t. Jae wasn’t the one who told Younghyun to die. He was too scared to do so and only relayed the message through Sungjin. He couldn’t even ask Younghyun by himself if he wanted to die for him. He never asked, he only took what he wanted to have. Younghyun would be dead right now if it weren’t for Wonpil, always Wonpil, who cleaned up behind Jae again.

Pathetic, isn’t it?

And suddenly, Jae is spilling his heart out to Joshua. Tells him about how he met Younghyun in a bar in L.A., how he gave up his old life to be with Younghyun, being left all by himself instead, struggling with the idea of people dying by his hands, ignorance that walked by his side as his shadow, ignorant to a life his own morals and ethics couldn’t assimilate with.

Jae tells him about searching for comfort in Wonpil’s arms and never finding it, the drugs that helped him sleeping, him hating on Younghyun and being loved by him all the same.

Jae tells him about Chan, about Younghyun’s plan, about the first and only person he killed with his own hands, about Ilsan and G-Dragon.

Over an hour passes and then another; Joshua lets him talk and listens without saying any other word. He gives him time and comfort in the silence of his office, something Jae is very thankful for since his own eyes can’t hold in the tears anymore when he tells him about the time when he thought he would never see Younghyun again.

And by the end of it, his heart feels so much lighter than before and so much heavier. Fear envelops him at Joshua’s reaction when he finishes with Younghyun’s confession weeks ago.

The clock ticks in the silence that suddenly turns into thick tension that radiates off of Jae in waves. Until Joshua takes a breath and leans back in his chair.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Jae,” he warmly says as he sets his paper and pen aside. “You are on your right way of recovery. A long way I dare say, and this here, this is the start. Your nightmares won’t stop tomorrow, and you certainly will still have panic and anxiety attacks. Those years left scars that will probably never heal. I suggest, instead of searching for the things you lost, maybe search for the things that you already have.”

“What do you mean?”

Joshua leans forward and intertwines his fingers. His lips quirk up warmly.

“You aren’t the boy from college anymore. But you also aren’t the drug lord that you punish yourself to be. You did mistakes in the past that you now regret fully. The next step will be to find closure with your past and make peace with it. They are part of you, but they _aren’t_ you. Forgive yourself and then, maybe one day, you can finally love yourself as the person you are.”

Love yourself.

Jae really wants that. Peace within him and love. To find salvation for the sins he committed. To find comfort in the shadow that is part of him. Jae just wants—a life where he can be happy again.

“But what about Younghyun?” Jae asks slowly, closing his eyes.

Younghyun is always there in the center of his mind. Younghyun with his intense eyes, watching him as he sees Jae, the _real_ Jae, with a smile on his face. Younghyun knows every mask and facet of his being. He knows his shadow and his persona, he knows the boy whose innocence is lost, he knows what Jae is capable of doing.

Where does it put Younghyun on his way of recovery?

“I--,” Joshua starts slowly but then frowns. “I don’t know much about your relationship to Younghyun but from what I hear is that—you both have been chasing each other for years, even obsessively so. But at the same time, you say that you feel happy with him once you are away from the toxic environment.

“Just ask yourself three questions,” Joshua suggests. “First: Why did you fall in love with him in the first place?”

Jae looks at him dumbfounded.

“Second: Why do you still love him?”

He sinks down in his seat, furrowing his brows.

“And lastly: Why won’t you ever stop doing that?”

He opens his mouth to protest at the absurd questions that he has already answered before, but Joshua only signals him that he isn’t finished yet.

“Don’t answer me, answer them yourself. Think about it and search for the core of your love. People usually search for something they have once lost, something that can be found in other people. What is it that you found in Younghyun and why do you have this pressuring need to never let him go?”

That day Jae leaves therapy with more questions than answers and a heart that feels so much lighter than before.

~~~

(“Thank you, really,” Jae turns back to Joshua at the door before he leaves. He smiles brightly at him, just like a very proud brother.

“But you realize that if anything I’ve told you here leaves this room…” he lets the sentence trail off as his finger lift the hem of his hoodie to show off the gun in his pants.

It’s a bummer, really, how Joshua doesn’t look like a proud brother anymore but like his rueful therapist. Another innocent soul dragged into his business, Jae laments, as he leaves the office a step lighter.

Jae isn’t the drug lord he ought to be anymore, but a part of it will always be stuck with him, huh?)

~~~

When Jae had started out his job as mobster, he always thought about glamour, good parties, drinks and whispers, and being behind the scenes to pull the strings. Now he knows better. Now Jae _knows_ that his job was more than being on glamorous parties, drinks and whispers and being behind the scene to pull the strings.

When ignorance was shattered into thousand pieces, Jae was left with the shards of his heart between his bloodied hands. Everything glamourous that he loved, every party and drink, every show of being respected; all of this came with a price that was too high for him.

Jae had paid with part of his sanity, part of his heart, part of his happiness.

It was years ago when he met the big boss in the city of angels, hand held out for Jae to enter a world full of darkness, deceit and blood; and Jae hadn’t even blinked twice as he took the hand, being swept off of his feet to Seoul.

Now, he stands on the beach of California again. His feet sink down in the warm sand, and cold water sweeps away all of his worries for a moment.

Jae had killed, had died, had lived. Jae had survived the cruelest world he will ever live in. And all of that just for one person; the person who stands next to him looking so painfully beautiful with the setting sun painting his face with the warmest colors to ever exist.

Ever since his long talk with Joshua and those that followed, Jae has realized that he can’t avoid the answers anymore. Younghyun stands patiently by his side each day and all of that with a beautiful smile on his face.

When March had bled into April and spring fully arrived, Younghyun was still here. Still is here. He lives in the same house as Jae, sleeps in the same bed as Jae, eats the same meals as Jae. Younghyun has become a part of his life without Jae realizing it happening.

Every evening Jae comes home to the smell of a fresh cooked meal, every night he falls asleep next to a body and wakes up to arms around his waist. His heart aches at the feeling of Younghyun’s face buried in his neck and flutters at the disappearing smell of cigarettes that leaves more room for the smell of Younghyun.

Jae loves the smell. It clings to his sheets and to the clothes Younghyun always steals from him. His closet is slowly filling with more clothes that are a tad too short for Jae but perfect for Younghyun.

It’s the small things, Jae realizes, that are changing. His house is suddenly filled with so many different things that doesn’t even belong to him. His sole guitar has at least four companions now, sheets of music and lyrics are spread everywhere. His jingles turn into bigger projects such as music he sells on the internet, most of them written by Younghyun and produced by Jae.

He works less time at the café and more for his music, and where he was once worried about a steady income, Younghyun then came home one day telling Jae that he has a job as an accountant in a small firm.

Things are changing slowly but steadily, and one day Jae wakes up and thinks, he hasn’t been the reason for someone’s death for at least half a year. He has a job where he does what he loves, and boring is suddenly so much more exciting with Younghyun by his side.

It isn’t boring when Younghyun sleeps on Jae’s shoulder through the movie in the cinema. It isn’t boring when they laugh the whole night instead of eating the food in the restaurant. It isn’t boring when they walk silently along the beach with bright smiles on their faces. It isn’t boring when their hands brush against each other again and again until one of them gives in and intertwines their fingers.

Long stares into each other’s eyes aren’t boring. The warm feeling of butterflies in his stomach aren’t boring. Falling for the man he already loves isn’t boring either.

It’s just normal.

It is Jae and Younghyun, as they always should have been.

Of course, there are times that aren’t beautiful or straight out of a fairy tale. There are moments when the nightmares catch up with Jae too often and he starts blaming Younghyun for everything; and sometimes there are moments where Younghyun grows tired of Jae and pushes him away to have one or two cigarettes on the porch.

There are moments where Younghyun remembers him of all the bad things in his life and Jae only runs out of the house to get a clear mind. There are days where they don’t say a word to each other when the pain is lingering in the air just like a ticking bomb.

But Younghyun tries. Jae has to give him that, Younghyun tries so much to be the person he once was. Younghyun tries to be that carefree guy who studied business and didn’t kill people in the night. He tries to be Younghyun who loves singing in bars and pouring his heart out on sheets, who cooks Jae’s favorite dishes when the night was especially bad, who keeps himself from going over that unsaid boundary Jae has put up between them.

Where Younghyun tries to be the man he wants to be one day, Jae doesn’t. Jae is working on that, though, that’s not it. Jae takes Joshua’s advice deeply to his heart; to discover who he is with every light and shadow. To accept the deep ocean as part of his being, but also see the colors and the sun in the sky.

Colors that seem brighter with Younghyun. _Are_ brighter with Younghyun.

Ever since then, Joshua’s questions never leave his thoughts. And Jae always wonders,

_What if Younghyun wouldn’t be here?_

But Younghyun is here, standing next to him on the beach and watches water sweeping over his in sand buried feet with some childlike gleam in his eyes. Jae adores this look on Younghyun’s face, loves it with his whole heart.

The sunset is beautiful that day.

“You asked me if I’m happy.” Younghyun whips his head to Jae when the older suddenly starts talking in the peaceful silence between them. Younghyun looks beautiful, so beautiful, Jae thinks, when he sees those innocent eyes fixed on his own. “But I realized that I never asked you the same. Are _you_ happy?”

Younghyun cocks his head in confusion before his lips spread wide in a carefree smile. His eyes light up with that beam, so pretty. “I’m on my way there.”

Yet, Younghyun looks so happy to Jae when he says that. Jae wonders why.

He turns fully to Younghyun and reaches for his hand. His skin is soft to his touch, they fit perfectly between his own.

“What do you need to reach your destination?” Jae asks in a whisper that flows in the wind.

Younghyun’s smile never wavers. “Only you.”

Jae laughs heartily. “You’re cheesy.”

“Only for you.”

“Stop it!”

“No, never.” And the playful gleam turns into a serious promise on Younghyun’s lips. “I will never stop as long as you will have me.”

Jae has thought about the answers to the questions that will decide on their fate for so long. And finally, he thinks he found them.

Jae finds them in the small things and changes and then realizes, that they have always been with him.

“I love you, Younghyun,” he suddenly whispers against Younghyun’s fingers as he presses a chaste kiss against them. The smile vanishes completely from Younghyun’s face as his eyes widen in surprise. Jae hasn’t told him those words for so long.

“When I met you in the bar, I was a goner for you. When I got to know you, I thought this is the man of my dreams. I’ve fallen for the man that you are, with every endearing fault. You can’t choose the world you are born into, but you can decide what person you want to be.

“What teared me apart was the utter confusion of who you really are. You were distant, a completely different version of the person I've met. But in the small moments between… you were still the man I loved. And it had torn me apart for years. I couldn’t let go of you because I thought that maybe you are still there. Just like in Ilsan, so far away from all the shit there, you were… you were my everything.

“I kept loving you because I was hoping that there was still that boy from college somewhere. But then I realized… there isn’t. You can’t be that boy from college anymore. You aren’t that Younghyun anymore.”

When Jae is silent for too long, Younghyun suddenly starts to panic. He scrambles to reach for Jae’s other hand and pulls them to his chest. Jae is bewildered at the sudden action, confused what is going on.

“Jae, listen, I will become everything you want me to be! I can be that guy for you, just let me try! I promise you that I do everything that I can—”

“Younghyun—"

“Just please don’t leave me. I need you. You make me the man that I want to be, you are—”

“Younghyun, listen—”

“I will change, I—”

Younghyun’s voice fades into the silent crashes of waves against the shore, silenced by the lips of Jae meeting his.

That kiss feels cathartic. Excitement thrums through his veins as his heart soars into his throat. Finally, Jae can taste Younghyun again without the faint taste of tobacco but only Younghyun. Jae wants to fill his whole being with just this, this feeling of love and Younghyun.

He slowly pulls away when his lungs plead for air and pushes their foreheads together.

“Let me finish speaking, Younghyun,” Jae chides him playfully. Younghyun responds with a small nod, eyes so full of hope.

“You can’t be the boy from college anymore—” Jae pulls Younghyun further into him when the younger tries to shrink away from him. “—just like I can’t be that boy from college anymore, too. We've changed. And yet, we both yearn for a life far away from that, so just let’s—let’s do this. We finally have the chance of living the life we both have dreamt of and I want you to be by my side for that. You are the only person who knows every part of me. I love those eyes of you because they _see me._ ”

Their fingers squeeze hard against each other as they tremble, as sadness and happiness find relief and comfort in light and shadow.

Younghyun nuzzles his nose against Jae’s, whispering with a wet voice into his lips, “I love you, Park Jaehyung.”

Younghyun is beautiful. Jae loves the colors Younghyun is painted with and loves even more the colors Younghyun has painted him in. Simply put, “I love you, Kang Younghyun.”

The sea is calm behind their kissing form as the last colors leave for the dark night, where stars light up brighter than Jae remembers them to be. The night is as beautiful as the day as the stars show him a way through the darkness that blankets him. Jae will never dive into the dark ocean again but will marvel at the things he can find looking up again.

He has a long way to go to finally heal. Maybe he will never do so. Maybe he will. It doesn’t matter because after all the time, Jae is on his way.

The world just got a little bit sweeter that he isn’t walking alone anymore. He will never walk alone anymore. Not with Younghyun by his side, the only one who can carry Jae’s burden with him.

That night, Younghyun and him miss the sunset by kissing all throughout the night. But they make it up by watching the dawn together.

Their fingers intertwine, perfectly fitted, as they have always been.

~~~

_I am breathless until the end, I run alone in the deep ocean that swallowed the stars_

_I dimly see the dry land in your touch that it's like the wet sweet rain. My heart is dyed_

_The color that it's called you and I see it all over the place raises me and leads me_

_(If you could, save me)_

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it, guys!
> 
> I struggled much in ending things as they are now. Because I honestly didn't know if I it was possible to keep Younghyun alive for the sake of Jae's character development. At the same time, it hadn't felt right to kill him. Because he, too, is just a victim of their life. Jae and he love each other without a doubt. Maybe this is their happy end, maybe not. We all know that they are the best and worst thing for each other, and both are damaged beyond repair.
> 
> But in case you noticed... there are some things that are still left open, such as: What actually happens in Seoul after Jae left? And as Jae doesn't want to hear about that, we will never know, right? Right?
> 
> Or maybe not! Because, yes, right, there's going to be a second part. Actually, already is! Check it out!
> 
> Thank you all for reading it! I am happy about every kudo and every comment! Really, thank you!
> 
> ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓


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